Pas de Deux
by Incatnito
Summary: COMPLETE - A sequel to Devolution, Mac takes on a diplomatic assignment while restricted to light duty. What was to be an easy week answering questions about a career in the US military turns into something more.
1. Default Chapter

Pas de Deux  
Incatnito  
PG-13  
  
A sequel to Devolution, Mac takes on a diplomatic assignment while restricted to light duty. What was to be an easy week answering questions about a career in the US military turns into something more. In my little corner of the world, Tribunal hasn't happened yet. (Heaven help you all if I wind up being smacked by the verbosity stick again. This could go on for months... weeks... days... or 15 minutes. ;-) )   
  
Disclaimers: Taking them out to play, promise to put them back. All characters of JAG belong to Donald Bellasarius and Bellasarius Productions; no copyright infringement intended.  
  
Part 1  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
0930 Local  
  
Mac absently savored her coffee as she stared at the computer screen. It had been two weeks since that nightmare in Memphis had ended and only one week that she'd been back in the office. Things were slowly working their way back to normal, but she would be on restricted duty until the fractured collarbone healed. Mostly it meant she would not be going out on any field investigations. Fortunately, it didn't stop her from litigating. If she'd had to spend the next six weeks doing nothing but administrative paperwork and research, Mac was positive she'd be ready to break someone else's bones.  
  
As of yesterday, she'd been given a relatively clean bill of health from the doctor over at Bethesda. She was grateful to be off that miserably boring diet, although Dr. Berger had warned her to return to her normal diet gradually. She smiled to herself recalling Harm's incredulous snort, she'd had to jab him with an elbow to keep him from launching into his version of her 'normal' diet. Still, it was sweet that he insisted on coming with her to her appointment. They were both cautiously feeling their way along in this new/old phase of their relationship. It was like slipping into a comfortable old sweater and discovering it wasn't the color you thought it was. They'd agreed to help each other out; he'd help her work through her insecurities and she'd show him that love wasn't synonymous with loss. Despite all their accumulated baggage, this being-a-couple thing was definitely rewarding. Her smile grew as she contemplated the 'rewards'.  
  
"I don't know what you're looking at, Colonel, but could you send it over to my computer, too?" Sturgis' deep voice startled her out of her thoughts causing some of the coffee to slosh out of her cup.  
  
"You're a dead man, Sturgis, that's the first coffee she's had in three weeks and you just made her spill it."   
  
Sturgis turned around to see Harm standing behind him. He raised his hands in mock surrender, glancing from Harm to Mac, "It was an accident, I swear. I didn't think Marines were that nervous."  
  
Harm folded his arms and gave the Commander a stern look, "C'mon Sturgis, everyone knows that you have to approach Marines quietly and carefully because they frighten so easily. Pleading ignorance isn't much of a defense."  
  
Mac looked up from blotting spilled coffee off her hand and desk and arched an eyebrow, "If you gentlemen are planning to take that show on the road, I'd suggest you try making it funny."  
  
The Commanders looked at each other and then back at Mac. "We think we're funny," Sturgis said solemnly. Harm opened his mouth to add his two cents when Mac's intercom interrupted him. The metallic sound of Tiner's voice came over the speaker, "Colonel MacKenzie? The Admiral would like to see you in his office as soon as possible."  
  
"On my way, Tiner," Mac said, standing up. She made a shooing motion at Harm and Sturgis, "You two can go back to your day jobs now."  
  
Harm waited in the doorway as she left her office, "Think this is about the Bacovian babysitting detail?"  
  
Mac shrugged, "Possibly, the Admiral said it should begin sometime this week." She continued walking, giving Tiner a nod as she entered the outside office.  
  
Tiner smiled, "Go right in ma'am, the Admiral's expecting you."  
  
"Thanks Tiner," Mac smiled in return. She rapped once on the door and then walked into Chegwidden's office. Approaching his desk, she snapped to attention, "Colonel MacKenzie, reporting as ordered sir." She was peripherally aware of a civilian already seated.  
  
AJ nodded, "As you were, Colonel. Have a seat." He gestured to the civilian, "This is Mr. Nathan Gallagher from the State Department. He's here to deliver the background information on your assignment with the Bacovian royal family, as well as give you State's views on the subject."  
  
Mac picked up on the slight change of tone the Admiral used on the last part of his statement. They looked at each other for a moment and then she turned her attention to Gallagher.  
  
Gallagher had been staring at Mac since she walked into the Admiral's office. He didn't like the idea of working with the military on this assignment. This was his ticket to bigger and better things and he didn't need to have it compromised by some low-brow misanthrope who couldn't function in the real world. Anyone who happily gave up their free-will for a life as structured as the military obviously had some sort of pathological need for authority figures. Admittedly, this particular officer was easy on the eyes and as a lawyer probably had to have some native cunning. Hell, she might even possess a modicum of intelligence, but he wanted someone who could understand the complex nuances of diplomacy. The damn Marine Corps version of diplomacy was to blow the other side off the map. He clenched and unclenched his hands, a nervous habit, why did this always happen to him? Well, he'd establish who was in charge as quickly as possible and see if he could keep the damage to a minimum. At least, as a woman, this MacKenzie would be used to letting a man take the lead. Gallagher refocused his attention when he heard Admiral Chegwidden introduce him.  
  
He took his time, adjusting his tie before finally clearing his throat importantly, "Colonel MacKenzie, I hope you realize the significance of this assignment to the United States government. Bacovia has been an excellent source of titanium for us and if we can work out an agreement for the military bases, it'll be quite a coup. Having a member of the royal family in our military will help solidify our relationship and give us some leverage as well. We're counting on you to put the military's best foot forward and convince the King that this will be an excellent opportunity for his daughter." He pulled out a heavy file folder as he spoke and handed it to her.  
  
Mac accepted the folder and looked at the man for a long moment, "Of course, Mr. Gallagher. You should know, however, that I intend to be as honest as possible about what a woman's life in the military entails."  
  
Gallagher gave a short, mirthless laugh, "Of course you will, Colonel. Just avoid or downplay any potentially negative aspects of military life. Surely, as a lawyer, that's not beyond your capabilities." He let a tiny amount of pique creep into his voice. Great, this was just what he needed, some jarhead officer playing the 'I'm-too-honorable,-I-cannot-tell-a-lie' game. She was a lawyer for godsakes! She probably lied all the time.  
  
Mac's face lost all expression and her voice turned icy, "Are you asking me to deliberately mislead these people?"  
  
Gallagher glared at her, "I'm telling you what needs to be done to serve and protect this country. I didn't think I'd have to point that out to an officer in the United States Marine Corps."  
  
"Mr. Gallagher, I doubt these people are stupid. Lying to them about the downside of military life is not only wrong but foolish. What makes you think they don't already know about the flaws in our system? What if this is a test of our integrity?" Mac matched his glare with one of her own.  
  
"Colonel, I don't expect someone like you to understand the subtleties of international diplomacy, so I would suggest you keep your ears open and your mouth shut. All you're supposed to do is follow orders. My orders. " Gallagher was thoroughly annoyed. The nerve of this woman!   
  
Mac looked at him silently, then placed the folder on the desk and stood back up at attention facing AJ, "Sir, I understand that this assignment is voluntary?" Chegwidden nodded slowly. "Then sir, I respectfully decline. Permission to withdraw?"  
  
"Granted, Colonel." AJ watched her pivot and march out of his office before turning back to Gallagher. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Gallagher, my yeoman will see you to the door."  
  
Gallagher stared at the Admiral, "Wait a minute, I need a tour guide for the princess and her parents. They specifically asked for a woman who is active in the military."  
  
Chegwidden leaned back in his chair, "You probably should have thought of that before you treated the Colonel like an idiot. She is the best qualified and, at the moment, happens to be restricted to light duty. I can't spare anyone else right now. You'll have to go to the next person on your list. I would suggest you curtail your obvious contempt for the military or I doubt anyone will be volunteering to work with you."  
  
Eyes squinted in anger, Gallagher sat silently. Goddammit! Although he had no intention of admitting it, MacKenzie did happen to be the most qualified. If he had to work with these anachronistic, murderous cretins, it made sense to use the best of the group. Why increase the odds of failing with someone even worse? He looked at AJ, "I want MacKenzie. Order her to take the assignment."  
  
Chegwidden stared back at the man, keeping his expression blank. He hadn't run into someone so belligerently anti-military since the Gulf War. Considering the current attitude about the military after 9/11, it was surprising to say the least. He sighed to himself, this would have been an excellent interim assignment for Mac while she recovered. He knew from watching her with Chloe that she worked well with kids and she was a fine example of what women could achieve in the military. He had no doubt she would have impressed the parents as well. All of which was water under the bridge, thanks to this smugly superior bureaucrat. "This assignment was on a volunteer basis. If you want the Colonel, apologize and try to convince her yourself. Consider it an opportunity to exercise the 'subtleties of diplomacy'." He turned and punched his intercom, "Tiner, would you please escort Mr. Gallagher out?"  
  
"Admiral!" Gallagher protested angrily, "I was promised full cooperation from the military! I can't believe you'd jeopardize this country's well-being because one of your female officers was having some sort of PMS moment!"  
  
Chegwidden's eyebrows slowly came together and his eyes narrowed, "Mr. Gallagher, I don't know where you learned diplomacy because so far I've seen little evidence of it. The Colonel was looking forward to this assignment until you opened your mouth and I find it hard to believe that you came in here without being aware of her qualifications. All of which makes your insulting behavior even more egregious." AJ held up a hand to forestall Gallagher's response, "However, it's patently clear that this mission is vital to you. I'd have to say that your opinion of the importance of this assignment is over-inflated. It is a good-will mission, nothing more. If it's successful, it will make both sides happy. If not, well, it's likely things will continue as before. I seriously doubt the King would break off diplomatic relations because his daughter didn't go to Annapolis. So I will tell you again, if you want Colonel MacKenzie - you convince her." He looked down at the papers on his desk, signaling that the conversation was over. Gallagher huffed and grumbled a little longer before getting up and striding out of the office, Tiner at his heels. AJ looked up as the door closed and muttered, "I hope you know how to duck."  
  
******  
  
Mac stalked back to her office and dropped down in her chair. That obnoxious, boorish, patronizing, contemptible jackass! That scurrilous...   
  
"Mac? Are you okay?" Harm poked his head cautiously in her doorway. When she looked up at him, he pretended to fend off her gaze, "Owww, Marine. Put that glare back on stun." Seeing her shake her head, he ventured in the rest of the way and dropped into a chair. "Problems with babysitting?"  
  
Mac drummed her fingers on the desk, "I declined the assignment."  
  
Harm's eyebrows rose in surprise, "I thought you were looking forward to it. What happened?"  
  
"A pretentious, obdurate State Department hack who wanted me to lie to the Bacovian royal family about any problems a woman might face in the US military." Mac leaned back with a scowl. It deepened when she saw a smile lurking on Harm's face. "You think this is funny?"  
  
"No, no. It's just that when you're ticked, I find my vocabulary expanding. Why not call the SOB a SOB and be done with it?" Harm grinned at her.  
  
Mac sighed, "Not enough syllables, thank you. Honestly, I want to flatten that supercilious jerk."  
  
Harm's smile turned mischievous, "We could waylay him in the parking lot. I'll hold him and you can incinerate him with one of your glares."  
  
Mac gave him a look, "You're just hysterical today, Rabb."  
  
"Hey, I'm not the one who inadvertently crisped a petty officer on my way back from the Admiral's office. Go look in the bullpen, I'll bet that little pile of ashes is still smoldering." He watched her with an innocent expression. Mac couldn't help herself, she let go of her anger and grinned ruefully. Harm smiled to himself in satisfaction. He rose from the chair and motioned to her, "C'mon, I'll buy you a fresh cup of coffee."  
  
They were halfway to the break room when Gallagher stormed out of the Admiral's office. Seeing the two officers, he headed towards them, "Colonel MacKenzie!" A harried-looking Tiner chased after him.  
  
Harm felt Mac tense beside him as they turned around, although her voice and expression remained neutral, "Yes, Mr. Gallagher?"  
  
Gallagher let his gaze drift to the tall Naval Commander before dismissing him to stare intently at Mac, "Colonel, I don't believe you fully grasp the importance of this assignment. I was promised full cooperation as well as whatever assets I deem necessary for the successful completion of this mission. You are the most qualified and therefore necessary; I'm ordering you to participate." He folded his arms and waited expectantly, you had to be simple yet firm with these military types.  
  
Mac looked at him and said calmly, "You don't have the authority." She turned back towards the break room. Incensed, Gallagher reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm, yanking her back towards him. Clenching her teeth on an exclamation at the unexpected pain, Mac let out a hiss. Seconds later, Gallagher found himself pinned facedown on a desk, his arm painfully twisted behind his back.  
  
"Tiner, call Security." Harm's voice came out in a low growl. He looked over at Mac, she was white-faced and had a hand pressed against her shoulder. "Mac?" Harm asked anxiously. Harriet hurried over and helped her into a chair.   
  
"What is the meaning of this?!" AJ's bellow drowned out Tiner's 'Attention on deck'. He motioned for Mac to keep her seat and glared at Harm, "Commander! Release Mr. Gallagher."  
  
"Aye, sir." Harm let go and stepped back quickly. Sure enough, Gallagher came up swinging. He was pounced on from either side by two large petty officers.  
  
AJ was in the bureaucrat's face in less than a heartbeat, "That's enough, Mr. Gallagher! I want you out of this building and off these grounds. Your behavior today has been nothing less than reprehensible. Consider yourself lucky that I'm not having you thrown in the brig. I will, however, have a number of things to say to your superiors." Chegwidden looked at the petty officers, "Escort him to Security. Tell Gunny Walters to make sure he leaves the premises and if Mr. Gallagher causes any more problems, arrest him and take him to the brig." He waited until they left the bullpen before turning back to his two senior attorneys. "Colonel, do we need a corpsman up here?"  
  
Mac shook her head, "No sir, I'll be fine in a moment." She smiled reassuringly at Harm and Harriet.  
  
AJ looked at Rabb, "What exactly happened?"  
  
"Gallagher ordered Mac to take the Bacovian assignment. She told him he didn't have that kind of authority and turned away. He blew up, grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back to face him. Then I subdued him." Harm was still angry. He wanted nothing more than to follow that son of a bitch into the parking lot and beat the holy hell out of him. When he realized that the Admiral was still watching him, he carefully schooled his features to become expressionless.  
  
AJ grunted as he watched Harm become poker-faced and then swept his gaze across the bullpen. The staff immediately became engrossed in their work, shuffling papers and typing industriously. He glanced over at Mac, "If it's any consolation, Colonel, I believe Mr. Gallagher will soon find himself reassigned to outer Mongolia."  
  
Mac smiled a trifle wanly, "Thank you sir, I think I'll wait to celebrate until it's official." Harriet gave her a hand as she slowly climbed to her feet. There was an industrial strength bottle of ibuprofen in her desk and she intended to make use of it.  
  
Chegwidden arched an eyebrow, "Not that I blame you, but I think I can guarantee that Mr. Gallagher never sets foot in this office again." He looked at all three officers, "Carry on." With that, AJ turned around and strode back to his office. He had a few heads to roll over at State.  
  
Harm hurried over to the two women. He looked at Mac, "Are you okay?" Harriet continued to hover nearby.  
  
Mac nodded, rubbing the front of her shoulder, "Yeah, everything's down to a dull roar." She turned and slowly walked back to her office. Harm went with her while Harriet continued into the break room. Settling carefully in her chair, Mac looked over at Harm, "Thanks for the rescue and the restraint. For a moment, I was afraid you were going pound him flat."   
  
Harm snorted as he settled on the corner of her desk, "Don't think it didn't cross my mind. My question would be what idiot in the State Department decided that that lunatic could handle a diplomatic assignment?" He watched her rummage through a desk drawer before pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'll be fine in a little bit, " Mac replied. She broke into a grateful smile when Harriet entered the office, bringing her a glass of water. "Bless you, Harriet." She downed several of the pain-relievers and looked at the two Naval officers, "Not the most auspicious beginning to the day, is it?"  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
1420 Local  
  
Mac looked up from her paperwork and saw the Admiral standing in her doorway. Immediately, she began to rise to attention. AJ waved her back down as he entered and dropped into one of her chairs, "Would you reconsider volunteering for the Bacovian assignment, Colonel?"  
  
Mac eyed the Admiral, "May I ask if Mr. Gallagher is still in charge?"  
  
Chegwidden allowed himself a small grin, "You may and he's not. As of 1232, he has been suspended for two weeks and then he'll be reassigned. I believe he's going to Greenland, apparently there were no openings in Antarctica."  
  
Mac chuckled, "That's too bad, I was hoping not to be in the same hemisphere. And yes sir, I'd be happy to take the assignment."  
  
"Good," AJ handed her the file folder as he stood up. "Report to the Bacovian embassy tomorrow morning at 0900. You'll meet with the King's Chief of Staff, a Daniel Rica. He'll take it from there."  
  
Mac stood up as well, "Yes sir." She waited for AJ to leave her office before sitting back down and opening the file folder. Twenty minutes later, a tap on the doorframe interrupted her reading. She looked up to see Harm standing there, "Hey Sailor, how did court go?"  
  
Harm grimaced slightly, "About how you'd expect with Lt. Singer prosecuting. She always goes for the jugular." In truth, Lauren hadn't been nearly as obnoxious as she had been in the past. The Memphis trip had been an eye-opener for her.   
  
Mac smiled, "So she's giving you a run for your money?"  
  
"She's wearing me out. Have you got any plans tonight?" Harm changed to the subject he would rather be discussing.  
  
"Why? Are you hoping to bounce defense strategies off me?" Mac propped an elbow on the desk and rested her chin, gazing at him innocently. No sense in making it too easy, Harm could use the exercise.  
  
He gave her a look before folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe, "If I was going to bounce something, it wouldn't be strategies."  
  
Mac's smile grew wider as both eyebrows went up, "In that case, Commander, I believe my social calendar is clear. Your place or mine?"  
  
Harm's grin matched her own, "I'll pick you up, there's a new Italian place that's opened. I thought we could give it a try."  
  
"Sounds good," Mac glanced back down at her file and waved a hand at him, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm knee-deep in Bacovian history."  
  
This time, Harm's eyebrows went up, "You took the assignment? Does this mean Gallagher is out of the picture?"  
  
"Yes and yes," Mac replied, "Mr. Gallagher is currently suspended for two weeks and will be reassigned to a post in wonderful, sunny Greenland - hopefully the northernmost tip."  
  
"That ass should have been fired," Harm grumbled. "He'll be trouble wherever he goes."  
  
"Getting rid of government bureaucrats is like getting rid of dandelions - practically impossible. At least we won't have to deal with him anymore. I'm looking forward to this," Mac said with a warm smile.  
  
"When does it begin?" Harm was vaguely aware that he was grinning too, she had that effect on him.  
  
"0900 tomorrow," She shook a finger at him, "So you can't keep me out 'til all hours. I'll make a better impression if I'm awake and coherent."  
  
"What if I promise to have you home and in bed by nine?" Harm waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
Mac laughed as she leaned back in her chair, "Then it will be your fault when I commit some faux pas and Bacovia declares war in the next twenty-four hours." A little light flirting did make the day more enjoyable.  
  
Harm made a show of pondering this. "Well, I suppose that wouldn't look good on my service record. Still... Bacovia's pretty small?" Mac nodded with a grin. "So theoretically, if I borrow a Tomcat for a day or so, I could not only start the war but win it too. That would look impressive on my record."  
  
"What would look impressive on your record, Commander?" The sound of Chegwidden's voice startled both officers. AJ had been coming out of the break room when he saw Rabb at the Colonel's doorway. Deciding to get an update on the McPherson case, he had detoured over in time to hear the Commander's last comment.  
  
"Ummm... ," Harm stammered a bit, straightening up. He hadn't expected anyone but Mac to hear what he'd said. AJ gestured at his Chief of Staff to remain seated while looking curiously at Rabb.  
  
"Saving the world for truth, justice and the American Way, sir," Mac chimed in, looking highly amused.  
  
Chegwidden's eyebrow slowly rose as he silently contemplated his aviator-turned-lawyer. Harm met his gaze stoically while squirming a little inside. What Mac had said wasn't much better than what he had said. Finally, AJ spoke, "Highly commendable, Commander Rabb. Just remember that the uniform of the day does not include tights." He turned to leave and then stopped, looking back over his shoulder, "I'd like an update on the McPherson case. Meet me in my office in five minutes." He paused for a few seconds and then added, "Please don't fly in through the window." With that, he headed back to his office looking pleased with himself.  
  
Harm waited until AJ had cleared the bullpen before covering his face and groaning, "I'm never going to hear the end of this." He lowered his hand and glared at Mac. She was laughing silently. "This is your fault, Marine."  
  
She raised her hands, "Hey, I'm not the one who likes to fly faster than a speeding bullet." Mac cocked her head to the side, "So tell me, do you have a cape attached to your flight suit?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Harm turned to walk back to his office, "This is going to get old fast." He looked over at her, "Pick you up around 1830?"  
  
"I'll leave the window open," Mac smiled. Harm gave her a pained look before retreating to his office. He was going to have to think about payback. His expression lightened - handled correctly, it could be fun.  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
1830 Local  
  
Mac opened her door and grinned at her partner, "I'm impressed. You're thirty-three seconds early."  
  
Harm gave her a sidelong look, "I flew." Mac laughed as she gestured him in. Her Superman analogy had filtered into the bullpen and Harm had spent most of the afternoon dealing with witty and wry remarks from those officers senior enough to get away with it. The junior officers and enlisted had contented themselves with grins and sotto voce renditions of 'faster than a speeding bullet...' whenever he walked past.  
  
She headed for a closet, "Let me grab a light coat and I'll be right with you." Harm admired the view as she walked away from him. She was wearing a black skirt with a burgundy sweater top. She draped the coat over her arm, grabbed her purse and turned back to him with a smile, "All set."  
  
Harm grinned as he opened the door and bowed her through, "After you, madam." He waited while she locked her door and together they walked down the hallway. They stopped at the entry and Harm helped Mac into her coat, taking care not to jostle her shoulder. He paused for a moment with his hands resting lightly on her back. Leaning in, he said softly, "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?"  
  
He felt her tense momentarily, before relaxing again and turning to face him. At his questioning look, Mac looked a little abashed, "Sorry about that, I guess I'm still not used to hearing those kinds of comments from you. It threw me a bit."  
  
Harm gave her a grin while offering his arm, "Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect."  
  
Mac smiled back while taking his arm, "In that case, may I say that you're looking handsome tonight as well?" He was wearing black slacks and a charcoal sport coat. His shirt was a shade or two lighter than midnight blue. It complemented her outfit with the added bonus of setting off the brilliance of his eyes.  
  
Chuckling, Harm inclined his head, "Yes, you may." They reached his SUV. He opened the passenger side and handed her in. Eyes sparkling, he kept hold of her hand for a moment and said solemnly, "I think we'll just have to face it, Ms. MacKenzie, we are a stunning couple."  
  
Suppressing a grin with difficulty, Mac matched his demeanor, "I concur Mr. Rabb. Let's go knock their socks off at that restaurant."  
  
With a wide smile, Harm gave a slight bow, "As you wish."  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
0805 Local  
  
Harm strode into the bullpen with a slight bounce to his step. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable evening for both of them. The food had been excellent, the conversation lively and even though it was an early night, they still had time for a short afterdinner stroll. He shook his head slightly, they'd known each other for seven years and still found each other's company fascinating. He'd known married couples that had little to say to each other after five years. He glanced at Mac's office, noting that it was dark. Seeing Harriet at her desk, he veered over to her, "Morning Harriet."  
  
"Good morning, sir," Harriet tried to contain her surprise. Harm was usually not in for at least forty more minutes. She managed to get out "How are you?" instead of "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Fine, thanks." He hurried to ask his question before Harriet started in on hers. "Has Colonel MacKenzie been in this morning?"  
  
"You missed her by about five minutes, sir," Harriet smiled. "Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"No, no," Harm backed away and headed briskly to his office. Although neither he nor Mac were hiding their relationship, that didn't mean that he wanted to be grilled about it. He could feel Harriet's grin all the way into his office. With a sigh he dropped into his chair and started in on paperwork, it would be a long day.  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, DC  
0850 Local  
  
Mac drove up to the entry of the embassy and gave her name over the intercom. Forty-three seconds later, the gates rolled open. Pulling into the courtyard, she was directed to a parking space by a young soldier. He waited for her to get out of the car and then escorted her to a side door. There, he handed Mac off to a liveried servant who took her to a richly appointed sitting room. The servant gave a slight bow and disappeared as quietly as he had arrived. Curious, she scanned the contents of the room. Aside from the to-be-expected expensive furniture and hangings, there were a number of photographs, both on tables and hanging on the walls. Obviously professionally done, they were of the royal family. Mostly, they were of the children at various ages, engaged in numerous pursuits. The twins were immortalized jumping fences on horseback, playing soccer, rock-climbing, giving music and dance recitals and even in fencing attire. The younger children didn't have nearly as many photos but apparently were just as active. Mac smiled to herself, wondering if this was what every well-rounded royal child went through.  
  
A throat clearing interrupted her perusal. Turning around, she saw a small man standing in the doorway. If she had to describe him, the first word that came to mind was 'soft'. He was round-faced and round-bodied, with a library pallor that contrasted sharply with his black hair. Mac was willing to wager that he had only a passing acquaintance with any physical endeavors. She walked over to him and smiled, "Mr. Rica? I'm Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie from the Judge Advocate General's office." Her smile faded a little as he regarded her silently. She began to wonder if anyone in this embassy actually talked.  
  
Abruptly, he turned and walked out with a gesture for her to follow. Mac swallowed a surge of irritation and started after him. She had a good four inches of height on him and so she had no trouble catching up with the little man. He seemed to find that development annoying, to judge from the look on his face. However, with her longer stride, his only other option was jogging. That was definitely beneath what appeared to be a massive amount of dignity. Finally, he spoke, "You're late."  
  
Mac blinked, "I was told to meet you at 0900."  
  
"Precisely. You're late."   
  
After debating with herself for a few seconds, Mac said, "No, I'm not. It's 0856."  
  
He looked at her in disbelief as he continued to stride down the corridor. Reaching into his coat, he brought out an expensive-looking pocket watch. Glancing down at it, he said rather triumphantly, "It's 9:05."   
  
They were rapidly approaching the end of the corridor. There was a set of double doors flanked by uniformed men. Mac spared them a quick glance and decided they must be members of the Bacovian Household Guard. They silently opened the doors as the two came closer. Rica never slackened his pace. Staying alongside, she looked down at him, "Your watch is fast, it's 0857."   
  
Once inside the room, he turned to face her. Waving his watch under her nose, he said, "This is a finely tuned, precision-crafted timepiece and it's... " he stopped moving it to look, "... exactly 9:06. You're late."  
  
Mac folded her arms and stared at him, "It's 0858:32. I entered the Embassy grounds at 0850, it took 3 minutes and 26 seconds to park the car and walk to the sitting room. I waited 3 minutes and 41 seconds until you came in and it took 85 seconds to reach this room."  
  
"Surrender gracefully, Daniel," came a soothing, baritone voice from a corner of the room. "The Colonel is quite correct about the time." The owner of the voice moved to the center of the room. Mac stiffened to attention. Even without Rica bowing respectfully beside her, she would have known that this man was King Gheorghe. He exuded an aura of strength and authority without seeming to be aware of it. His features were a trifle too irregular to be considered handsome but there was a rough-hewn attractiveness there. He was of medium height, lithe rather than heavily muscled and moved with an athlete's grace. His dark eyes, sparkling now with humor, missed little. Mac sucked in a breath, even after seven years of preparation with Harm, this man's charisma was damn near overpowering.   
  
He gestured at her as he continued to walk towards the two, "Please, Colonel, relax... umm, as you were. Is that correct?" He smiled when she nodded and turned an indulgent grin upon Rica. "Daniel, I've been telling you for weeks that your watch is gaining time." He watched the little man huff indignantly and then turned back to Mac, "I beg your pardon, we haven't been introduced and Daniel isn't finished sputtering about his exquisitely crafted watch. I'm Gheorghe Dzurick and you, I presume, are Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie?"  
  
Mac nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty."  
  
"Thank you for coming. Despite the reception Daniel probably gave you, my wife and I appreciate your presence." He sat down in a brocaded wingback chair and motioned for Mac to have a seat. The King glanced at Rica as he spoke and the little man looked back in defiant displeasure. "I'm afraid Daniel doesn't approve of my daughter's plans nor our acquiescence. 'It is unseemly for a woman of royal blood to pursue a career as a common soldier.' I keep assuring him there is nothing common about Mo. Nor, if I may be so bold, does there seem to be anything common about you, Colonel."  
  
Mac blushed and looked down at her hands for a moment, feeling a trifle flustered. It was disconcerting to find another man that could affect her the way Harm did. "Thank you, Your Majesty... I'm looking forward to meeting your daughter."  
  
"And so you shall," Gheorghe replied. Fifteen seconds later, another liveried servant stood attentively at the doorway. Mac decided there must be some sort of bell or signal near the chair. "Would you ask the family to join us?" Gheorghe inquired. The servant nodded silently and disappeared. The King turned back to Mac and cleared his throat, "Colonel, I believe I should warn you - my children are headstrong and they always try to push the limits with anyone new in their lives. I don't know if I'd call them bullies... " Rica snorted and then subsided when the King looked his way. "... but don't let use their royalty as a club. As far as my wife and I are concerned, you outrank them."  
  
"Yes sir," Mac said with a slight smile, wondering if the Princess would be another Chloe.  
  
Gheorghe leaned back in the chair, "Might I ask a personal question, Colonel?" Mac nodded somewhat warily. The King grinned as he glanced at Rica, "How did you know exactly what time it was? Is this something they teach in the American military? Because if that is the case, perhaps I will send some of my staff to be educated."  
  
Chuckling, Mac shook her head, the thought of the stuffy, little Bacovian Chief of Staff in Marine boot camp was amusing, to say the least. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but that particular ability is all my own. I've been able to tell time without a watch since I was ten."  
  
"You are obviously a woman of many talents, Colonel... " The King was interrupted when the doors opened and a crowd of people entered the room, the youngsters were chattering noisily. Gheorghe climbed out of his chair and Mac rose also. That was enough to quiet everyone down. A brunette, only an inch or so shorter than Mac, continued forward until she was at Gheorghe's side. He placed a light hand on her back and smiled, "My dear, may I introduce Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie? Colonel, this is my wife Carol Dzurick."  
  
Mac inclined her head a little and smiled, "Your Majesty."  
  
Carol smiled in return and offered a hand, "I'm glad you're here, Colonel MacKenzie, my daughter is anxious to find out everything she can about a military career. You're going to be her 'inside' information." She turned to Gheorghe and raised an eyebrow, "I think you'd better start the introductions before all your children expire from curiosity."  
  
Gheorghe glanced over his shoulder, "I believe you're right." He looked at Mac, "Are you ready to brave the lion's den?" 


	2. Part 2

Part 2  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
0938 Local  
  
Mac followed along in the little crowd that trailed after the royal family. The King and Queen went first, followed by the Heir Apparent and Heir Presumptive, their twin daughters. The third group, which Mac found herself in, consisted of the ever-scowling Rica; the King's batman, Lucian Valter; the Queen's Executive Secretary, Elizabeth Parker; and Gheorghe's aunt and uncle, the Grand Duke Victor and his wife, the Grand Duchess Katrina. The introductions had gone, more or less, smoothly. There were a number of people. The twins had been on their dignity, she'd have to wait to see what they were really like. The younger children had turned shy at the last minute. The rest had been the adults and they were clearly divided about whether the Princess' desire for a military career was a good idea.   
  
Rica was adamantly opposed and judging by the cool reception, so were the Grand Duke and Duchess. The King's batman, the Queen's Executive Secretary and the governess, Olga Hristov, were all in favor. Now they were on their way to private living quarters of the royal family. Carol, keeping a weather eye on the undercurrents, had decided that the discussion that was about to take place would be better in a less public setting. The whole thing had Mac slightly perplexed. She thought she would be allaying (or possibly confirming) the parents' concerns, not arguing her case before the royal household.  
  
They entered a large, comfortable room and subconsciously or not, split into opposing sides. Mac stood back a little ways, apart from either group. Grand Duke Victor fired the opening salvo, "I cannot believe you're actually going through with this, Gheorghe. The military is no place for a woman and most especially, not one of royal birth. It's degrading and dangerous." Mac noticed the surreptitious looks cast her way by the others, as well as the identical defiant look directed to their great-uncle by each of the twins.  
  
"Uncle Victor," Gheorghe said calmly, "I am going through with nothing. Natalya is eighteen and can make her own decisions. Naturally, her mother and I will gladly offer opinions - wanted or not." This produced the expected smiles and eye-rolling from all the children, easing some of the tension. The King waited a moment and then said more seriously, "As for the rest of your statement, I believe you've come perilously close to insulting our guest." He looked at Mac, "Colonel, would you like to answer Victor, or shall I?"  
  
Mac looked at him for a moment, realizing that Gheorghe had expected this reaction and now apparently wished to gauge her response. Meeting his gaze, she gracefully inclined her head and turned to the Grand Duke with a smile, "Your Grace, while I respect your opinion, I'm afraid I'll have to contradict you on several points. The military is the place for anyone who is willing to serve and defend their country, regardless of gender." She glanced around the assemblage, "I doubt that it's much different than the responsibilities of royalty; unless you find 'noblesse oblige' to be degrading as well?" She paused, raising an eyebrow. Victor glared at her but remained silent. Mac continued, "As for danger, well obviously, some aspects of the military are more dangerous than others but then, these days, being alive is dangerous too. The difference is that in the military, we expect to deal with danger and are trained accordingly. Civilians rarely have that advantage."  
  
"If the military life is so idyllic then why aren't more people joining?" This came from a frowning Grand Duchess.  
  
Mac turned towards her, "Idyllic is hardly the way to describe the military. We're undermanned, overworked and underpaid but we stay in because it's important and because there's something honorable in serving one's country. Not a lot of people are willing to make the sacrifices a military career demands."  
  
"But your military doesn't allow women in combat. You don't get to defend your country - you're nothing more than a group of uniformed secretaries and clerks. Why should the Princess demean herself for such menial tasks?" Victor said this with a hint of malice. Mac noticed both Elizabeth Parker and Daniel Rica bristling at his words.  
  
"There is nothing menial or demeaning about the clerks or the secretaries. Only a small percentage of troops actually see combat and they couldn't if it weren't for the clerks, secretaries, cooks, mechanics, technicians, truck drivers, warehouse workers, medical personnel, lawyers and all the rest of the support staff that keeps the military functioning. Despite the non-combatant status, all receive the same combat training because there is very little that is predictable in battle. Women are currently not allowed in the frontlines as ground combat troops but that doesn't keep them from providing support in the rear echelons. And, as you're surely aware, there are a number of women combat pilots." Mac locked eyes with the Grand Duke and waited for his response. She was peripherally aware of the small smiles on the faces of Gheorghe, Carol and the children.  
  
Victor's face reddened as he remained silent, his eyes narrow as he glared at her. Abruptly, he threw up his hands and turned to Gheorghe, "Very well, disgrace the family if you wish. I can see that I will have little say in the matter." He turned towards the doors and looked at the Grand Duchess, "Come." Then he strode angrily from the room, trailed by his wife. As he passed by Mac, he said softly and venomously, "Suka." She stiffened momentarily and watched him leave the room. Only the Grand Duchess had heard Victor's last comment and she looked like she agreed with him. Mac decided that she'd need to keep an eye out for the belligerent couple.  
  
Gheorghe's gaze followed the Grand Duke and Duchess out of the room. He turned a perplexed look towards Mac, "Victor rarely surrenders a position so easily, Colonel."  
  
"And he's been known to try physical intimidation when words fail him," Carol added grimly. She glared at Gheorghe who looked at her with a slightly shocked expression, "Liza and I hear things from the staff that you don't, Geordie. As far as we know, he hasn't actually laid hands on anyone yet; but he's been growing more and more difficult these last few months. I don't know why he persists in staying with us when we so obviously annoy him."  
  
"He doesn't want to be too far from the power," Mac murmured thoughtfully. She flushed slightly when she saw the King and Queen look at her, "I beg your pardon, your Majesties. I was speculating out loud."  
  
"It's a valid point," Gheorghe sighed. Then he smiled again, "But now that that's over, I think we should all sit down and get acquainted." He looked over at Rica, "Daniel, you may go or stay. It's up to you."  
  
Rica smiled. Mac felt mildly surprised, she had begun to believe the little man didn't know how. He looked at the royal couple, "I believe I'll stay, your Majesty. I can hardly raise new objections if I'm not here to listen to new information."  
  
"Very true, Daniel," the King laughed. He turned and escorted his wife to the sitting area, everyone else trailing behind. Once all were comfortable, he looked over at Mac, "Ready to answer questions, Colonel?"  
  
"Yes, your Majesty," she said with a smile. Two hours and seventeen minutes later, Gheorghe called a halt. Mac heaved a quiet sigh of relief. She'd lost track of the number of questions she'd answered and had had very little time to ask any of her own. Still, the nature of the questions gave her some insight into each person. Enough for a pocket sketch of the various people she would be dealing with. The oldest twin, Princess Margarete Catalin, 'Cat', was the definitely the leader of the two. She didn't talk so much as listen and her questions tended to get to the heart of the matter quickly. She took her responsibilities as the heir seriously. Princess Natalya Moira was more vivacious. She had inherited her father's charisma and seemed blissfully unaware of the fact. 'Mo' combined a sunny disposition with the sometimes disconcerting habit of focusing her entire attention on whomever was speaking. Mac decided she was one of those people to whom others gravitated like moths to a flame.  
  
Prince Andrei Nicolae, 'Nicky', was at that awkward age of fourteen. He was still trying to cope with the growth spurts and other changes that were taking place. Princess Christina Elena, 'El', was a typical twelve-year-old. Happy and bubbling, she bounced from subject to subject at the speed of light. In the space of five minutes, Mac learned that El's favorite pony was named Henri, her favorite color was blue, she was having trouble in math, she thought Mac was pretty and she wanted her parents to have another child because she thought babies were cute.  
  
The King and Queen were a little harder to read. Mostly, their questions conveyed concern over the career choice their daughter had made. Mac was pretty sure that Carol was the disciplinarian in the family, Gheorghe tended to dote on his children. Liza Parker's title was Executive Secretary to the Queen but her true position was that of confidante and best friend. Mac learned that she and Carol had grown up together in Lexington, Kentucky and Liza had been responsible for Carol and Gheorghe meeting. Lucian Valter was the King's bodyservant. He was young and bright and his relationship with Gheorghe was somewhat like father and son. It was fairly obvious, at least to Mac, that he was mesmerized by Mo. The governess, Olga Hristov, was an older, mousy little woman whose main purpose in life these days, was keeping El out of trouble.  
  
Daniel Rica was a puzzle. Intelligent, blunt and acerbic, he had no qualms about contradicting the King whenever the mood struck him. He played Devil's Advocate with a vengeance. Gheorghe treated him with fond amusement and a good deal of respect. Mac decided that his primary loyalty was to Bacovia and that he would put the safety and well-being of his country above any personal relationships, including that of the royal family.  
  
"Colonel?" Gheorghe's voice broke into her thoughts. "Would you care to join us for lunch? After that interrogation, the least we can do is feed you. It will just be the family - nothing formal."  
  
"Thank you, your Majesty," Mac said, "I'd be happy to have lunch with you, if you're sure I won't be intruding."  
  
"Nonsense, Colonel," Carol smiled, "You're about to become a member of the family - at least for a little while. We've been hearing all about the Marine Corps and military life and now we should get to know one another on a more social level." She glanced at Gheorghe as she said this, checking his reaction and missed the quick look of displeasure on Rica's face. Mac didn't and wondered which was annoying the Bacovian Chief of Staff more, that she was staying for lunch or that he hadn't been invited. Truthfully, she wouldn't have minded skipping the lunch and calling it a day. Her stamina still wasn't where it used to be and she was tired. However, as in the case of admirals, when a king requests your presence - you say yes.  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1450 Local  
  
Mac sat in her car and waited for the gates to open. Lunch had turned out to be an interesting affair, if unexpected. 'That's what I get for going in with pre-conceived notions,' she thought to herself wryly. What she thought would be a stuffy, stilted gathering had turned into an enjoyable experience. Eating had been punctuated with good-natured teasing, favorite stories and wry commentary on world events. The royal family was a close-knit bunch that obviously enjoyed each other's company. Listening to the twins was like watching a tennis match as they finished each other's sentences. Gheorghe had a dry sense of humor and a deadpan delivery as he told how Carol's parents (who raised thoroughbreds and warm-bloods) had been less than impressed with the possibility of a royal son-in-law until they discovered he knew which end of a horse got up first. Carol matched that with stories of her competition days in the equestrian 3-Day Event. The Bacovian royal family were intelligent, likable people. All in all, Mac decided that this would be a relaxing and fun assignment.  
  
She pulled out onto to Embassy Row and headed for Georgetown. There was no point in going back to the office, the Admiral wasn't expecting her. She'd go home and relax for a couple of hours and then give Harm a call and see if he wanted to get together for dinner. Mac was fairly certain she'd had a more enjoyable day - he'd been in court again with Singer. No doubt he would need a little sympathy. Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't notice the dark sedan that followed her.  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
1530 Local  
  
Mac entered her apartment, juggling keys and packages, and pushed the door closed with her foot. She'd stopped at a little market on her way home. Depositing the bags in the kitchen, she came out and stepped back in surprise. Clayton Webb stood in her living room, watching her reaction with a small, lopsided grin.  
  
Mac put a hand to her chest, leaning against the side of her desk. Her heart was hammering wildly, "Goddammit, Clay! You scared the living daylights out of me! Don't you ever knock? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Don't you lock your door? I could have been some maniacal serial killer." Clay countered with a smug look. It was rare that he managed to surprise the hell out of her. He dropped down on the couch and watched as she went and locked her front door.   
  
Mac turned around, folded her arms and regarded him sternly, "I thought you were still in Afghanistan. Did you suddenly feel the urge to come back to the States just to give me a heart attack?"  
  
"That was on my agenda," Clay said, the gleam in his eye belied his serious expression. He waited while she settled in a chair opposite him, "So you're the officer they drafted to do PR work with the Bacovians?"  
  
Mac nodded, eyeing the CIA operative with suspicion. He stared back at her, his expression neutral. Mac groaned and dropped her face in her hands, "Dammit to hell, Clay, this was supposed to be a relaxing, no-brainer assignment. Tell them about the pros and cons for women in the military, take them on a tour of Annapolis and maybe run them out to Quantico." She raised her head and glared at him, "If you tell me the royal family is a secret al-Qaeda cell, I think I'll scream."  
  
Webb looked at her and grinned, "Not al-Qaeda - well, not directly, anyway. And we don't think the royal family is involved, but we're not sure. It could be the staff. Of course, we don't know if what we're hearing is true or if it's just misinformation to keep us turning in circles. That's where you come in."  
  
Leaning back, Mac sighed in exasperation, "Clay, I'm just too tired to follow the convolutions. Could you please spell it out for me slowly and in English? What's going on?"  
  
Clay took a closer look at Mac, she did look tired. "You're still recovering from that militia debacle, aren't you? Mac gave a slight, reluctant nod, she hated admitting weakness. Webb leaned back, while he thought things over. Damn, if what he suspected was going on, Mac would be invaluable as their inside player. The problem was that he had no way to gauge the level of danger she could be facing... He snorted to himself, what was he thinking? Mac was just as bad as Rabb; any estimate of the likelihood of trouble could be automatically squared if either one was involved. With both, the estimate could be figured by powers of ten. Unfortunately, that also went hand-in-hand with their success rate. If he got Mac involved in this, he could count on Harm's participation as well. That would bring in the Admiral... Clay felt his nose begin to ache.  
  
"Clay... ?" Mac's voice brought him out of his reverie. He looked to see her watching him with mingled concern and amusement. "I guess I'm not the only one who's tired. I should have guessed that asking you to simplify things would send you off to uncharted space. Do you want some coffee?"  
  
Webb raised an eyebrow and then nodded. He stood and gave Mac a hand up and then followed her to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, he watched while she prepared the coffeemaker. Mac grinned at him, "Do you need real coffee or wimpy, squid coffee?"  
  
Clay scrubbed the side of his face, "Real coffee, please. It's been a long couple of weeks."  
  
Mac measured out the fragrant crystals and then started the coffeemaker. Turning, she leaned against the counter as well, "Have you figured out what to tell me?"  
  
Sighing, Clay gave the bridge of his nose one final rub, "Yeah. You know we've been monitoring al-Qaeda traffic?" Mac nodded, everyone on the planet probably knew that. She refrained from comment, knowing he was ordering things in his mind as he spoke. He continued, "Well, we picked up an odd snippet about ten days ago. Chechen rebels arranging a meet with an al-Qaeda representative. In and of itself, that's not too surprising - the Chechens are willing to go anywhere for help. The thing is the call originated in Bacovia. The King has always been pro-West and we don't think that's changed. So this could be just a rebel group conveniently hiding out in the Bacovian mountains, or it could be a threat to the royal family. We also don't know if any of the family is involved. The Dzuricks have been a prolific bunch, you can't swing a stick without hitting a blood relation somewhere. Strategically, it doesn't really affect us but if al-Qaeda-supported Chechens establish a hold in that country, it could cause huge problems for Russia and the neighboring countries. Ultimately, that will cause us problems down the line. Especially when we start thinking about Iraq."  
  
"So you're leaning towards a coup? Do you think they'd do away with the monarchy altogether?" Mac tightened her grip on the counter, what she was asking was whether the entire family would be murdered.  
  
"We just don't know. They might keep some form of puppet government to appease the citizens. Most of this is speculation. We don't even know if the call was legitimate." Webb was silent for a moment and then looked Mac in the eye, "My gut feeling is that the Dzurick family is in danger."   
  
"What do you want me to do, Clay?" Mac asked tightly, thinking of the lengths these people might go to to achieve their goal. That there were children involved had not proved to be much of a deterrent these days.  
  
"Tell the King what we suspect and see if you can convince him to keep it to himself. Tell him we're doing everything we can to find and stop these people. He'll want to protect his family but what if someone in the inner circle is the traitor? If they think their plan has been compromised, they might just try to slaughter everyone. We need to proceed as if we suspect nothing." He looked down for a second and then said, "You realize you'll be a target as well? Killing an American officer would be icing on the cake." Clay was well aware that if anything happened to her, Rabb would kill him and the Admiral would make sure there was nothing left to bury.  
  
"What are the alternatives, Clay? Run away and pretend it's not my problem? There's no way I'm going to let these bastards get a free ride, not if I can help it." Mac was adamant.   
  
Webb smiled to himself, Mac had dropped into kick-ass Marine mode. Any terrorist who crossed her path right now was roadkill. He thought of something else and glanced over at her, "You should also know that Major Sokol flew into D.C. late this morning."  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1820 Local  
  
He moved quickly to a deserted room when he felt the cellphone vibrate. Pulling out the phone, he looked cautiously around before answering, "Yes?"  
  
"You were right to suspect her. The CIA met with her at her apartment this afternoon. The agent was there for over an hour. What if they know what's going on?"  
  
"Don't panic. We've been careful, they're probably just speculating." He moved further into a corner.  
  
"That's easy for you to say. What if they KNOW? What are we going to do?" the voice was growing anxious.  
  
"We follow the plan. If it becomes necessary, we'll adapt." With that, he broke the connection and moved quickly from the room. They'd come too far to give up now. If the woman officer started poking around where she wasn't wanted, they'd get rid of her.  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
2010 Local  
  
Harm looked at Mac over the remains of the chinese food he'd brought with him. They'd spent the last hour and half or so, catching up on each other's day. He'd managed to keep her alternating between laughter and sympathy as he described his courtroom battle with Singer - concluding arguments would be tomorrow. Mac, for her part, had filled him in on 'Life with the Royal Family, Day One'. He couldn't help feeling a small twinge of jealousy over her description of Gheorghe. It was silly, he knew. Mac was not the disloyal type and the King was the married father of four. It seemed like a pleasant assignment, so Harm was puzzled by the undercurrent of tension he felt from Mac. As he hadn't seen her all day, he was reasonably sure it wasn't anything he'd done. Unfortunately, he'd have to wait until she was ready to talk about it. He knew from past experience that he would have more luck getting his chopsticks to speak.  
  
Mac glanced up from pushing the remains of dinner around the plate to catch Harm staring at her in concern. She wasn't planning on keeping anything from him; she just couldn't decide on the best approach. It was a safe bet he'd go ballistic at even a hint of danger to herself. She didn't need him taking his ire out on Webb, nor did she want to have to confront him when he went into his protective mode. On the other hand, she valued his experience and judgment. Sighing because there was no good way to do this, she plunged in, "Webb came to see me today."  
  
Harm's voice rose along with his eyebrows, "What? Why? He's not trying to suck you into one of his missions, is he? You're not in any condition to deal with any of his fiascos!"  
  
Damn... "Harm, it wasn't one of his missions he was concerned about." Mac took a deep breath, "He's worried that there's some sort of plot to overthrow the Bacovian government. His people picked up transmissions between al-Qaeda and Chenchen rebels - from inside Bacovia."  
  
"And he thinks these people will try something here in the States? Dammit, he should be talking to the FBI or Homeland Security or, for that matter, the Bacovians - not you." Harm leaned back with a scowl. Clay could be unbelievable at times.  
  
Mac rubbed her eyes tiredly, a gesture that was not lost on Harm. "He doesn't have anything concrete to show them. A single transmission and his gut instinct that something is going to happen. He thinks someone, or more likely, several someones at the Embassy are in on it and he doesn't know who to trust with the information. That leaves me as his only trustworthy pipeline to the King, as well as being his eyes and ears on the inside."  
  
"Putting you squarely in the middle of this! For godsakes, Mac, you might as well paint a bullseye on your back. Taking out a high-ranking American officer will be a bonus for them." Harm stared at her for a long moment, and then sighed in exasperation, "And you're going to do it anyway, aren't you? No matter how I feel about it?" He pushed away from the table and went to stand by the window.  
  
Mac closed her eyes in frustration, why didn't he see? She got up and followed him. "What would you have me do, Harm? Walk away? These are good people, I like them. How am I supposed to live with myself if I bail on them and the unthinkable happens? There are children involved."  
  
"But you'd still be alive, Mac." Harm's voice was resigned, he was fighting a losing battle. That annoying little voice in his head kept telling him he was a hypocrite. He could never do what he was asking Mac to do. Goddammit, he had a horrible feeling about this. He turned to look at her, old fears haunting his eyes, "I don't know if I could stand losing you."  
  
'Too.' Mac heard the word even if he didn't say it out loud. Giving him a small smile, she stepped into his embrace. They stood like that for a minute and then Mac spoke, her voice somewhat muffled by his shirt, "You know I have to do this, Harm." She shifted a little so she could look up at him and smiled, "I'm counting on you to cover my six, Commander."  
  
He smiled back down at her, "Consider it covered, Colonel." Even before he had started the argument, he knew this would be the outcome. Mac didn't walk away from trouble because of concerns for personal safety. Still, he had to try. He looked down to see her dark eyes watching him closely. Sighing at the vagaries of life, he lowered his head and kissed her soundly.  
  
Sometime later, Harm raised his head in annoyance and looked at the front door. They had moved to the couch early on when he'd felt Mac trembling. She'd laughingly insisted that his kisses had made her knees weak but he was pretty sure fatigue was playing a big part. Although she blew it off when confronted about it, he knew she still tired easily. They had snuggled together and Mac had drifted off to sleep despite her best efforts to remain awake. Now someone was alternately ringing the doorbell and knocking on her door. Carefully, he tried to extricate himself without waking her but to no avail. Mac's eyes came open and she looked at him blearily. "There's someone at your door. Were you expecting anyone?" he asked quietly.  
  
Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head. Harm gave her a hand up and kept hold of her elbow until he felt her steady herself. Together, they went to the door and Mac peered thru the peephole. Harm looked at her questioningly at her sharp intake of breath. Silently, she undid the locks and opened the door and then he understood. Falcon.  
  
"Mark?" Mac stood staring at him. She had half-expected to see him, once Clay had let her know he was in town, but not this quickly.  
  
"Hello Sarah," Mark Falcon, aka Major Sokol, smiled. Looking past her, he nodded briefly, "Rabb."  
  
"Sokol." Harm was equally abrupt.   
  
Mac looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes. "Come in Mark. Can I get you anything?"  
  
"No thanks, I probably won't stay that long," Mark glanced over at Rabb. From the look on Harm's face, it was apparent Sokol had been there too long already. Taking off his overcoat, he handed it to Rabb. "Put that up for me, would you?" He turned away to hide his smile and sat down on the couch next to Sarah. He actually liked Harm, but it was so easy to yank the Commander's chain that sometimes he just couldn't help himself.  
  
Harm stared at the KGB officer and resisted the urge to drop the overcoat on the floor. Sokol was baiting him and Mac would just get exasperated. He knew the Major was attracted to her, but why did she have to be so nice in return? He draped the coat over a chair and settled in another opposite the couch. Staring at Sokol, Harm got right to the point, "Are you here because of Chechen rebels in Bacovia?"  
  
Sokol gazed at Mac and then Harm in surprise, "I wasn't aware you were part of this, Commander."  
  
"Get used to it," Harm stated flatly, not quite looking at Mac. Sometimes she was okay when he got high-handed. Other times, she pinned his ears back; but he'd be damned if he'd let Webb AND Sokol rope her into something by appealing to her sense of honor and duty. Not without him there to back her up, anyway.   
  
The two men glared at each other until Mac put a hand on Sokol's arm, "Mark, is this about a possible overthrow of the Bacovian government?" She shot a look at Harm, silently requesting he keep quiet and let her handle this. He looked at her for a long moment and finally acquiesced, relaxing back into his chair. It didn't lessen his watchful gaze on Sokol, however. Mac gave a mental shrug, she'd take what she could get.   
  
Leaning back, Sokol ignored Harm and focused on Mac, "I gather Clayton Webb has been here?"  
  
Mac nodded, "He dropped by this afternoon and filled me in. He's pretty sure something's going on, but he doesn't have details nor does he know who's in on it. Do you have any ideas?"  
  
"Speculation, mostly. Someone in the royal family must be involved, obviously. You realize the position my government is in? This could be disastrous should these people actually succeed; however, diplomatic relations between our two governments is pretty much non-existent. Anything we do will be viewed with suspicion and despite our good intentions, may actually become counter-productive. All someone would have to do is claim we want back in Bacovia and let the hysteria do the rest." Sokol paused for a moment, glancing warily at Harm. "We need to stop these people, Sarah, or a lot of innocent people are going to get killed. I need to protect my country and my hands are tied." He stopped again, considering his words, "I need your help. If Webb agrees, will you share whatever information you discover with me? I don't have many resources here in the States, but I can throw together a number of assets in and around Bacovia very quickly. If we cooperate, maybe we can stop this before it gets ugly."  
  
Mac leaned back, absently flexing her left hand. She could feel it pulling the scar tissue on her forearm. The doctors had encouraged her to exercise the hand as often as she could stand it. She thought she was regaining some strength in her grip. She looked thoughtfully at Mark and stole a quick glance at Harm. He was sitting in his chair, stone-faced. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Fine, Mark. Talk to Clay and if he's agreeable, we'll include you in the loop." Harm didn't say a word.  
  
"Thank you, Sarah." Sokol stood up, "I'll let myself out." Mac got up as well and followed him to the door. He stood in the open doorway for a moment and smiled at her, "I hope you know you're pretty special. I'll get in touch with Webb in the morning."  
  
After he left, she shut the door and turned around. Harm still sat silently in the chair. Sighing, Mac tucked an errant bit of hair behind her ear and walked back to the couch. "What?"  
  
He looked at her for a long moment, "Why do you trust that man, Mac? He's KGB, you know he's got his own agenda."  
  
Mac stared at him, "Harm, he's actually got more to lose than we do. It's his country that's going to be targeted. We're on the same side for this."  
  
"Not completely, he's going to put his country first, if push comes to shove. If he gets a chance to end this threat by wiping out these people, it's not going to matter if you're caught in the crossfire." Harm scowled, he didn't trust Sokol any further than he could throw him.  
  
"Harm, you don't know that. Besides, I'm leaving it up to Clay. I don't see where it increases the danger if my information goes to two places instead of one." Mac settled down on the couch and leaned back.  
  
Harm snorted, "That's supposed to make me feel better? How often have Clay's ops gone south for us?"  
  
"Slightly less often than he's come through for us," Mac snapped. She rubbed her eyes, "Look, I really don't want to fight about this and I'm more than a little tired. Can we table this discussion for another time and call it a night? I'm supposed to be at the Embassy at 0800. The King and Queen are going to Annapolis to check out the Academy. I'm taking Mo in early. She wants a run-through without the royal entourage."  
  
"What exactly does that mean?" Harm's eyes narrowed. "You can't possibly be planning to go there without a security detail."  
  
Mac stared up at the ceiling, "That's probably what's going to happen, it depends on how Gheorghe wants to handle it. Mo was pretty vehement about not attracting attention. On the other hand, I doubt Clay will be far away. Besides, all this works by acting as if everything is normal, remember? We don't know who they're targeting first but it's Cat who's the heir to the throne, not Mo." She closed her eyes, "Can we please continue this later?"  
  
"Fine," Harm said irritably as he climbed to his feet. "You'll do what you want anyway."  
  
Mac looked at him, mouth open in disbelief. Before she could say anything, he'd grabbed his coat and strode out of her apartment. She gazed at the closed door, "Damn."   
  
Harm's Apartment  
North of Union Station  
2246 Local  
  
Harm stomped into his apartment and tossed the keys on the bookshelf near the door. He was still irritated, but his target had changed. Now he was mad at himself. Mac would do whatever duty required, he respected that and truly, expected nothing less. Of course, instead of supporting her, he'd gotten angry. It was easy when both the CIA and KGB showed up at her door. Dammit, it wasn't like she needed any encouragement but Clay and Sokol knew exactly which buttons to push to guarantee her participation.  
  
He stood irresolutely in the middle of his apartment. What he needed to do was call Mac and apologize for his behavior but he wasn't sure if he wouldn't make things worse. She'd never let personal fear stop her from a course of action. Hell, sometimes it made her run faster towards it, as if she had something to prove either to herself or the people around her. It made him crazy that Mac would risk herself like that. He didn't know if he could keep himself from trying to make her see sense.  
  
Finally, he decided to leave it alone - at least until tomorrow. As fast as everything seemed to be happening, it was probably a safe bet that Chegwidden hadn't heard these latest developments. Maybe he could convince the Admiral to let him join Mac as back-up. If not, he'd have to figure a way to do it without directly disobeying orders. 


	3. Part 3

Part 3  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
0740 Local  
  
Mac pulled into a parking space and headed for the side entrance again, escorted by another young soldier. It had been a restless night. She hated fighting with Harm and she couldn't actually fault him for his concern. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that she needed to do this. Ignoring terrorists was no longer an option these days. She would do what she could to make their lives difficult and, hopefully, their goals unattainable.  
  
There was the same liveried servant waiting for her at the door and he took her to the same sitting room. This time she paced restlessly, too preoccupied to continue her photographic study of the royal family. Mac knew she'd have to be circumspect in her approach with the King and Queen. Although Clay had only wanted her to warn Gheorghe, Mac had decided that Carol would need to know too. She couldn't imagine the King keeping concerns about their children's safety from his wife. She needed to talk to them as soon as possible and she didn't want to draw any attention to herself. Maybe during the Annapolis trip, something could be arranged. She wished Clay could have given her some sort of timeline. She had no idea when these people might strike.  
  
Mac stopped pacing as Rica and another man entered the room. They were followed by Gheorghe, Carol and Mo. "Colonel, good morning," Gheorghe smiled. He glanced back at his daughter and chuckled, "All appearances to the contrary, I believe Mo is looking forward to this." Mac looked over at the princess and smiled in agreement. Mo was not a morning person.  
  
"Daddy... " Mo said in exasperation, glancing at Mac. Both she and her sister found the Marine colonel intimidating and nothing like they expected. It was something they hadn't planned on, they were royalty after all. But they had watched Col. MacKenzie face down their great-uncle, as well as handle Uncle Danny without losing her temper and they felt a little awed. Now Mo was trying to regain some ground and not appear like a child and her own father was embarrassing her!  
  
"Gheorghe... " Carol said at the same time. Col. MacKenzie seemed like a nice person but Carol knew that meeting her had thrown her daughters for a loop. When they had learned that a woman Marine was going to talk to Mo about a military career, the speculation had gone on non-stop. Despite Carol's warnings to the contrary; every imagined description had gotten progressively worse until they were all expecting some two-hundred lb., tobacco-chewing harridan who had to shave her mustache daily. She would swear like a fishwife and eat with her hands and her vocabulary, while fluid in grunting, wouldn't extend beyond two-syllable words. Learning that she was a lawyer had only added shifty, beady little eyes to the portrait they had created.   
  
... And in had walked Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie, beautiful, intelligent and frighteningly capable. The twins had been practically tongue-tied and it gotten even worse after the scene Victor and Katrina had caused. The question and answer session had helped them regain some of their equilibrium. Enough to make them appear more like themselves anyway, but Carol could tell they were still intimidated. It was one of the reasons she had insisted on the Colonel joining them for lunch. The children needed to see there was a person inside the uniform. It had worked to a certain extent - Nicky was on his way to a serious crush. Probably the least affected was El, she bounded along at her own happy pace. She'd taken an instant liking to the Colonel and Carol could tell the feeling was mutual. Carol's biggest problem would be curtailing El's enthusiasm. She didn't think Olga would appreciate having her beaches stormed.  
  
Gheorghe raised his hands, "All right, all right." He leaned towards Mac and said in a loud whisper, "Apparently I have a knack for embarrassing my children."  
  
"Mother!" Mo decided to appeal to a higher power.  
  
"Geordie... " Carol said warningly, doing her best not to smile. Her husband had the 'Mortify Your Teenage Daughter' maneuver down pat. "I'm sure Col. MacKenzie would like to get going. You can torment your other daughters after she leaves."  
  
"Promise?" Gheorghe asked lightly. He was in a very good mood this morning. He was feeling better about Mo's decision and this afternoon, he and Carol would be able to spend time together without Daniel or god knew who else chasing after him. He took his kingship responsibilities seriously, but at least for one afternoon, he wanted to put family first. "Very well, my dear." He turned to Mac while gesturing Daniel and the other man forward, "Colonel MacKenzie, I'd like to introduce you to my Head of Security, Marius Zali."  
  
Zali extended his hand to Mac with a smile, "A pleasure, Colonel MacKenzie." He wasn't quite as tall as Harm, but he had the same broad shoulders. His hair was a sandy brown that he kept short and his eyes were hazel with flecks of gold. He had a strong, firm grip and an open, friendly countenance. Mac liked him immediately.  
  
Gheorghe said conversationally, "Marius doubles as our fencing master. Be careful of him, Colonel, he's always looking for new victims."  
  
"Your Majesty," Zali protested, "You make it sound like I lurk in dark corners waiting for unsuspecting passersby." He turned back to Mac, "I usually drop from the chandeliers. It's much more impressive."  
  
Mac chuckled, "I'm sure it is but I'm afraid I don't know much about the sport."   
  
"Then perhaps you can drop in during one of the classes and we can get you started." He gestured to Mo, "Princess Natalya is turning into an exceptional epee fencer. She could work with you." Mac glanced over and saw Mo blushing, torn between embarrassment and pleasure at the compliment.  
  
She started to reply when Rica interrupted her, "Your Majesty? The time?"  
  
Gheorghe waved a hand, "Yes, of course, thank you Daniel." He turned to Mac, "I suppose you'd better be on your way. We've been invited to dine with the Commandant at noon, so we'll meet after that." He glanced at Carol and then looked at his daughter with a grin, "Say 1:30? That should give you plenty of time for a tour without all that annoying bowing and scraping." He paused and looked at Mac, "Marius will accompany you."  
  
"Daddy! No!" Mo protested, her eyes widening. Her father raised an eyebrow and she hurried on before he could speak, "Please Daddy, I don't need to followed around by security. The Academy grounds are safe, aren't they, Colonel? They don't let just anyone wander around, do they?"   
  
Reluctantly, Mac looked at Gheorghe and Carol, "Your daughter's correct, the grounds should be safe. They are cautious with visitors." Damn, she couldn't decide if she should be relieved or not about being accompanied by security. If only they knew who was involved!  
  
Mo looked appealingly at her parents, "See? Besides, once I become a midshipman, I can't have a bodyguard anyway. I might as well get used to it now. And I won't really be alone, Colonel MacKenzie will be with me all the time."  
  
Gheorghe and Carol exchanged looks while Mo watched anxiously. Finally, Gheorghe said, "All right, no security while you're on the Academy grounds but Marius will be with you on the drive there."  
  
"Couldn't he just follow us? That way he'd have his own transportation." Mo held her breath, waiting for her parents' decision.  
  
The King threw up his hands and looked over at Zali, "Would that be acceptable to you, Marius?"  
  
Mac watched Zali's professional demeanor snap into place while he considered Mo's request. At last, he nodded slowly, "Separate cars shouldn't hinder our protection, your Majesty." He stared at Mo and said firmly, "And should you leave the Academy grounds, you will have an escort."  
  
"Yes sir," Mo rolled her eyes and looked hopefully over at Mac, "I'm ready whenever you are, ma'am."  
  
"Let's go then," Mac smiled at the teenager and then looked at Gheorghe and Carol, "With your permission, your Majesties?"  
  
Gheorghe waved his hand, "Yes, go. Before my daughter convinces me that the moon is made of green cheese."  
  
Carol smiled at Mo, "Listen to the Colonel, dear, because she has my permission to treat you like a boot camp recruit should you merit it."  
  
Mo gulped and shot a quick look at Mac, "Yes, ma'am."  
  
Together they left the room and headed down the corridor. Marius exchanged cell phone numbers with Mac and then went on ahead to get a car and driver for himself. They were almost to the exit when Mo stopped suddenly, clapping her hand to her head, "My hat! I left it in the sitting room." She looked at Mac, "Could I go get it? It will only take a minute."  
  
"Fine," Mac replied, watching with amusement as the princess ran back up the hallway. Chloe was just as bad about appearing in public without what she considered to be proper attire. Thirty-eight seconds later, Mo came pelting back down the corridor with what Mac decided must be the latest fashion in hats firmly on her head. It looked like a felt bag.  
  
"I'm ready," she announced breathlessly.  
  
"Okay," Mac said. They went out to the parking area and headed for Mac's car.   
  
"Oh wow! A 'vette! Can we put the top down? Please?" Mo looked hopefully at Mac.  
  
Glancing up at the sky, Mac smiled and nodded, "It takes a couple of minutes." Five minutes later, they pulled out of the gates with Marius behind them in the ubiquitous dark sedan. Mo whipped out a pair of sunglasses and settled back with a happy sigh. Looking over at her, Mac chuckled, "You look like a Hollywood star traveling incognito."  
  
"Really?" Mo smiled and fluttered her fingers at startled pedestrians as the 'vette motored down the street. In her best diva voice, she cooed, "Ahhh... my adoring fans. No, no autographs today, dahlings... "  
  
Mac laughed, "You're in a good mood, your Highness."  
  
Mo looked over at her, "I know you're just following protocol, ma'am, but would you call me Mo? Or even Natalya?"  
  
Inclining her head, Mac smiled, "If you insist... You're in a good mood, Mo."  
  
Laughing, Mo extended her arms over her head, feeling the breeze whip through her fingers, "I can't help it. It's a beautiful day, I'm in a 'vette with the top down and I'm going to get to see the Naval Academy like a normal person." She looked over at Mac, feeling suddenly shy, "Do you think I can do it, Colonel MacKenzie? Get through the Academy?"  
  
"I don't see why not," Mac answered seriously, "It won't be easy, of course. You're smart enough and it looks like you keep in good shape. Just remember it'll be mental toughness that will finally get you through plebe summer. Most of the time, you're going to be exhausted. The rest of the time, you'll be beyond exhausted. That's when you grit your teeth and keep going. Neither the Navy nor the Marines are interested in quitters." Mac glanced over at the princess, "The first days are going to be quite a mental adjustment. People are going to be in your face all the time, right from the first minute. Don't blow up and don't let it get to you. There will be times when it's going to be fun and it does get easier." She grinned, "And I can guarantee there'll be people who will be thrilled to have you at the Academy."  
  
Mo looked at her quizzically. Mac gave her a sidelong look, "The Naval Academy has a fencing team."  
  
"Yes!"  
  
It wasn't that long a drive, only 40 minutes or so, and the time went quickly as Mo became more comfortable talking to Mac. They pulled up to the gate, Mac showed her ID and explained who they were and why they were there. The guard listened carefully and then went back to his station, he came back a few moments later with a clipboard. Signaling to his partner to let them through, he whipped off a precise salute. Mac returned it and drove onto the Academy grounds. Mo looked at her, "For a minute, I didn't think they were going to let us in."  
  
Mac smiled as she got out of the car, "They don't let tourists park on the grounds. There are parking lots near the stadium and a shuttle bus if you don't feel like walking. I know you don't want to hear it, but I think we just got some diplomatic consideration because you're royalty."  
  
Mo sighed and then looked confused, "But you're not a tourist. You're a Marine."  
  
"Whose only professional duty at the moment is being a tourist." Mac turned and looked at Mo, "Where do you want to go first?"  
  
"Everywhere." Mo thought for a moment, "Where will I be on my first day?"  
  
"In Tecumseh court to take the oath. Want to start there?" At Mo's nod, Mac started off in that direction, returning salutes automatically. Mo noticed more than a few of the middies looking at them appreciatively. Soon, though, she was caught up in the history of the Academy as they strolled through the beautifully maintained campus.   
  
Two hours and forty-four minutes later, Mac called a halt. She was glad she was wearing her uniform pants, the flat shoes were much better for all the walking they'd done. She looked over at Mo, "How about getting something to eat? I'm starved."  
  
Mo nodded, "Me, too." She looked around the campus, "Where do we eat?"  
  
Mac grinned, jerking a thumb over her shoulder, "In Annapolis. We'll pick up Marius and find a place. There's some pretty decent restaurants nearby." She pulled out her cellphone and punched in the number Zali had given her. After a minute or two of conversation, Mac looked over at Mo, "He'll meet us at the gate by the City Harbor in five minutes."   
  
When they reached the gate, Marius was already there. He smiled when he saw them, "Did you enjoy the tour?" Mo nodded enthusiastically, she'd put her sunglasses back on just before they'd gotten to the gate. Turning to Mac with a grin, she assumed a haughty position and waved a languid hand, "Lead on, my public awaits."  
  
Marius stared in confusion while Mac chuckled. She looked over at him, "The mysterious Hollywood starlet once more ventures out amid her adoring fans."  
  
"Ahhh," Marius said smiling. He bowed low, "Where does Madam wish to dine?"  
  
Mo tilted her nose up and folded her arms, "Anywhere but that place with the dreadful clown."   
  
"Yes Madam. Of course, Madam. Whatever you wish, Madam," Marius punctuated each 'Madam' with a bow.  
  
Mac shook her head. Mo had the clenched teeth dialect of the annoyingly rich down pretty well and Marius looked like a windup toy. "All right, you two." She pointed up the street, "There's a good place further up Main Street. Hopefully, it's far enough away that we won't have too long a wait." Despite being a weekday, Annapolis was crowded with tourists. She saw Marius speak into a small microphone.  
  
He glanced back and saw her watching, "I told my driver to pick up Main Street at the top and cruise down to meet us." They headed for the restaurant, threading their way through the crowd. Marius took the lead, constantly scanning in all directions while Mac brought up the rear. They had just started up Main Street when a metallic thud attracted their attention. A little less than a block away, someone apparently had pulled out of a parking space without looking and gotten their front end clipped. Both drivers got out of their cars and almost immediately voices were raised and arms were waving. The crowd of bystanders quickly grew as the spectacle became more interesting. Marius slowed down and glanced back at Mac. She shrugged and gestured to the other side of the street where another crowd was forming. He nodded and looked at the two women, "Stay close together and we'll see if we can skirt the edges of this. I don't like where this is going."  
  
As they got closer to the group, Mac agreed with Marius. Some of the younger crowd had gotten into the argument with the two participants, shouting taunts and insults. It had all the earmarks of a riot, but it wasn't there yet and if the police arrived soon, that would be the end of it. They edged into the crowd, trying to keep close to the buildings. Mac kept a hand on Mo as she continued as rearguard. Later, she was never quite sure what made her turn around but she did. There was a man closing with her rapidly, and he had a knife.  
  
Mac had just enough time to set herself when the man lunged at her, swinging the knife upward from where he been carrying it low by his side. She caught his wrist with her left hand and stepped into him, driving the heel of her right hand into his nose. It broke with a satisfying crunch and he staggered back as blood flowed. Mac kept hold of the knifehand and kicked him right between the legs. Wheezing, he dropped to the ground, curled around himself and started to vomit. Around her, people were screaming and scrambling out of the way. She spun back, Marius was fighting with someone else and Mo was gone. Swearing, she shoved her way towards Zali, anxiously scanning in all directions. An alleyway opened up near the Bacovian security chief. Looking down between the buildings, she saw two men dragging a struggling Mo. "The alley!" she bellowed at Marius and took off at a run after them.  
  
One of the men saw Mac coming and dropped back. He carried a short club that he swung in a vicious arc as she got close. Skidding to a halt, she threw herself backwards, losing her footing and hitting the ground. The man leaped forward and swung down, intent on breaking her skull. Mac rolled to her side and bracing against the ground, drove a sidekick into his midsection. His forward momentum lent force to the kick and threw him backwards. He landed with a thump, holding his ribs and gasping for air. Using her own momentum from the kick, Mac surged to her feet in one continuous motion. She grabbed a garbage can lid and launched a two-handed swing that connected with the man's head with a resounding clang. He hit the ground and stayed there.  
  
She looked for Mo and saw Marius grappling with the last man. This one had a knife and the security chief had a hand wrapped around the man's wrist, keeping the knife extended out and away. Focused on her own opponent, she hadn't seen him go by. Mo was pressed up against the alley wall, looking terrified. Mac picked up the club from her assailant and ran to the struggling men. Silently she circled, looking for an opening and then stepped in and cracked the last man over the top of the head. He dropped in a heap. Marius stood there panting, his lip was split and his clothes were dirty and disheveled. He nodded his thanks and looked over at Mo. He froze, his eyes wide and slowly a scowl began to form. Mac gave him a confused look and then she heard pounding feet behind her. Tensely, she whirled around and as quickly, relaxed at the sight of two Annapolis policemen. One stayed by the first man in the alley, flipping him over on his stomach and cuffing him. The other came up to Mac, looking beyond her at Marius and Mo. "Are you folks all right? What happened here?" He looked back at Mac, noting the insignia, "Colonel... ?"  
  
"Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, with the Judge Advocate General's office in Falls Church," Mac replied, "and behind me is the Princess Natalya Moira Dzurick of Bacovia and her Head of Security, Marius Zali. We were touring the Naval Academy and had been headed to a restaurant for lunch when these men attempted to abduct the Princess." She gestured at the still unconscious men and noticed blood dripping off her hand.  
  
The officer, leaning down to cuff the last man, called over his shoulder, "Tony! Have them roll an EMT unit and call the watch commander. We've got foreign royalty here."   
  
Mac was inspecting the palm of her hand, apparently it had been awaiting her attention to begin throbbing painfully. Marius came over to look, "Did one of them cut you?"  
  
She shook her head, "I think I put my hand down on some broken glass." Now that the adrenaline was fading, other aches and pains were making themselves known.  
  
Marius took a closer look, "I think there's still some in there." He pulled out a clean handkerchief and wrapped it loosely around her hand. "Didn't you notice?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"No, caught up in the heat of battle, I guess," she answered offhandedly, watching as more police arrived. Somehow, she didn't think the Admiral was going to be pleased about all of this. Mac looked over to see a subdued Mo still leaning against the wall. "Mo? Are you okay?"  
  
Marius answered for her, the tone of his voice made Mac stare at him in surprise. "Mo is just fine, Colonel. However, you might want to ask the Princess Margarete Catalin how she feels about nearly being abducted."  
  
"WHAT?" Mac spun back towards the princess so fast, she staggered a step. Marius grabbed an arm to steady her, while glaring at a miserable-looking Cat.  
  
A pair of EMTs came down the alley. One stayed checking the prisoners and the other continued on to the trio. He was followed by a police lieutenant. With one last look at Cat, Marius went to talk to the lieutenant. The EMT walked over to Mac and the princess. He nodded to Cat and then looked at Mac, "Colonel, I'm Brian. Officer Driscoll said you had a pretty nasty cut on your hand." Mac extended her hand and he carefully unwrapped the now bloody handkerchief, "Yup, that's nasty. Looks like glass." He looked around and then led her to lidded garbage can. "Why don't you brace yourself against this? Are you beginning to feel a little shaky?"  
  
She nodded and he smiled, glancing up the alleyway, "Aftermath of the adrenaline rush. You do any of that?"  
  
"About half," Mac said absently, still reeling from the realization that the Bacovian heir had almost been kidnapped. She winced slightly as he irrigated the wound and began carefully packing it with gauze .  
  
"Sorry about that," Brian said and glanced up, "You've still got some glass and other debris embedded in there and it looks like you might need a couple of stitches. It's not serious, we just have to get it cleaned out and make sure no infection sets in. Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked, taking in her general appearance. "Did you hurt your side?"  
  
Mac realized that she had her left arm clamped to her side. She shook her head, "No, it's my shoulder. I'm in the fourth week of recovery from a broken collarbone. At the moment, it hurts like hell."  
  
Brian shook his head sympathetically, "I'll bet." He gestured towards her, "Why don't we get the jacket off and I'll take a look?" He eased it over her injured hand and was carefully pressing her shoulder when Marius finished talking with the lieutenant and walked over.  
  
"Colonel?" Marius asked, "Are you hurt somewhere else?"  
  
"No, I just aggravated an older injury," Mac said, trying not to groan as the EMT poked and prodded.  
  
"I don't think you did any more damage to it, Colonel," said Brian, finishing his inspection. "But you need to go to an ER for that hand. We can transport you. Do you have a preference?"  
  
"Can you take me to the Naval Hospital?" Brian nodded and Mac looked over at Marius, "That way you can take Cat and meet with the King and Queen, it's already 1308. I'm going to need to talk with them as well. "She grimaced a little, she was also going to have to get in touch with the Admiral.  
  
Marius looked at her dubiously, "Can't it wait until tomorrow? You could use a break." He glanced over at Cat, "They're not going to be happy and they might not want to hear anything else right now."   
  
Mac returned his gaze, wondering if there was anything else behind the request. She shook her head, this whole thing was making her paranoid.  
  
Marius misinterpreted the headshake and sighed, "They won't find fault with you, Colonel, but they're going to want to know why I failed to recognize it was Catalin. I'll probably wind up on the next flight back to Bacovia."  
  
"It wasn't your fault. Cat and Mo apparently had that part well-planned. What I don't understand is how they thought they could fool their parents." She looked over at Cat, "What were you going to do?"  
  
Cat shifted uncomfortably, neither she nor her sister had envisioned anything like this happening. "I was just going to confess when I saw them. We figured they'd wait until they could get us both together before going ballistic. We didn't think it would be dangerous... " She ended on a plaintive note and looked at Marius, "Why would someone do this? I mean... we're from Bacovia." Watching his face darken, she hastily amended, "What I meant is, we're such a small country. We're not strategically located to be of any use to anyone and there's nothing within our borders that can't be obtained elsewhere. Why would anyone bother?"  
  
Frowning, Marius gestured towards Mac, "Have you considered the potential embarrassment to the United States? That something like this could happen to foreign royalty on their soil despite having a military escort? For that matter, did either of you consider the possible damage to Colonel MacKenzie? Setting aside the fact that she's been injured because of this, you could have wrecked her career."   
  
He broke off when Brian cleared his throat, the EMT had been listening in fascination, but they needed to get moving. "I'm sorry sir, but we should get the Colonel to the hospital and get that hand cleaned out. Waiting is just increasing the chance for infection."  
  
"Yes, of course." He inclined his head towards Mac, "I beg your pardon, Colonel."  
  
Mac shook her head wearily, "It's okay." She came to a decision and smiled at him, "My friends call me Mac."   
  
He smiled in return and stepped forward to tuck a hand under her elbow as she stood. He looked over his shoulder and gestured to Cat, "Let's go, your Highness." Brian led the way for the small group. There was an ambulance waiting at the entry of the alleyway. Marius helped Mac inside and then stepped back out, "The police are going to give the Princess and I an escort to the Academy. I'll send my driver over to the hospital to wait for you. He can bring you back to the Commandant's place." Mac nodded gratefully as Brian climbed in next to her. His partner shut the doors and they headed out.  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
1330 Local   
  
Harm walked back to his office. The concluding arguments were done, now all he and his client could do was wait. Hopefully, the panel would reach a verdict quickly. He put his briefcase down on his desk and debated his next course of action. He hadn't had time before court to talk to the Admiral about Mac and he was damn sure Clay wouldn't say a word if he could help it. Coming to a decision, he pivoted and headed for Chegwidden's office. Hopefully, the Admiral would have time to hear him out.  
  
He reached the outer office and Tiner looked at him in surprise, his hand on the phone, "Commander, I was just about to call you. The Admiral wants to see you right now."  
  
"Do you know why?" Harm asked, rapidly reviewing past actions. He didn't think he'd done anything lately to merit the Admiral's ire.  
  
"No sir," Tiner replied, "He just said 'Get Rabb in here now.' "  
  
That didn't sound comforting. Harm settled his uniform and rapped on the door. Hearing 'Come', he walked in and came to attention. "Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered, sir."  
  
Chegwidden looked up, removing his glasses, "That was fast, Commander. Have you taken to lurking outside my door?" He waved a hand as Harm started to answer, "Never mind, have a seat." He fiddled with his glasses a little, "I just had a call from Colonel MacKenzie. Did you know she was at the Naval Academy today?"  
  
Harm nodded, wondering why Mac would call the Admiral. "Is everything all right, sir?"  
  
"At the moment, yes. But half an hour ago, someone tried to abduct the Bacovian princess. The police arrested four men." Chegwidden rubbed his eyes, so much for an easy assignment for Mac.  
  
Harm's eyes widened, "Sir? Is Mac okay?" Goddammit! He knew something like this would happen!   
  
"She needed some stitches in her hand, apparently she put it down in some broken glass. The King and Queen are at the Naval Academy right now. Mac said she needed to talk to them and then she'd catch a ride back to the Embassy. I want you to meet her there. I'm pulling her off this assignment." The Admiral leaned back, he knew he was setting Rabb up to take the full brunt of the Colonel's anger. Knowing Mac, she wasn't going to be happy.  
  
Obviously, the same thoughts were occurring to Harm, "Sir, I don't know if it's going to be that simple."  
  
Chegwidden scowled, "Unless you're suggesting that the Colonel would deliberately disobey me, it is that simple."  
  
Harm shifted uncomfortably, "Sir, I was coming to talk to you about Mac's assignment. Webb came to see her yesterday afternoon, he's stumbled across a link between al-Qaeda and the Chechens and it involves Bacovia. He thinks there's a conspiracy to overthrow the monarchy and he's enlisted Mac to help him figure out who's involved."  
  
The Admiral's face darkened, "Webb talked her into helping him? When did you find out and when was I going to find out?" His voice had gotten dangerously soft.  
  
Inwardly, Harm flinched. He knew that tone. "Sir, I believe Mac was going to talk to you today after she finished taking the Princess on the Academy tour. I found out last night when we had dinner together. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was afraid with al-Qaeda involved, they wouldn't stop with removing the Dzuricks from power - that they might slaughter the whole family. Then Major Sokol showed up with the same concerns and well... you know the Colonel would feel it was her duty to help thwart the terrorists."  
  
Chegwidden's eyebrows went up, "The KGB showed up at Mac's door? What is she, Spy Central?"   
  
"I'm beginning to think so, sir," Harm said wryly. "Webb doesn't know the extent of the conspiracy but it's possible part of the royal family or someone close to them is a part of it. It also seems that the Dzuricks have taken a liking to Mac. As far as Clay is concerned, that makes her a secure line to the King."  
  
"And a target, Commander. I want her off this case." Chegwidden leaned back with a sigh, nothing was ever simple with either of these two. Toss in Webb and the KGB and... oh hell, it was par for the course.  
  
"Sir... ," Harm listened to himself in amazement, he was arguing to keep Mac in the middle of this? "If Clay's right about this, Mac will be the only one he can trust inside the Embassy besides the immediate royal family. It could be the difference between life and death for the Dzuricks."  
  
The Admiral tilted his head to one side, "That's a little overly dramatic, Commander, but your point is taken. The problem is that I don't believe the Colonel is physically up to the challenge."  
  
Harm steeled himself, now was the time, "But I am, sir. Let me join Mac as back-up. You know I'll watch out for her and Clay trusts me as well."  
  
Chegwidden suppressed a smile at winning the bet he'd made with himself. It had taken Harm less than fifteen minutes to get to this point. He looked at his officer sternly, "What about your caseload? We're already short-handed."  
  
Harm grimaced slightly, "Well, sir, the panel's deliberating right now in the Ellis case and McPherson decided to go with a plea. I still have to draw up the papers. I'm working with Sturgis on Sanderson and the rest are pending while I wait for various reports."  
  
The Admiral drummed his fingers on the desk while Harm waited anxiously. Finally, he grunted, "All right, Commander. Go join the Colonel and try to keep the both of you in one piece."  
  
"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!" Harm popped to his feet and at Chegwidden's dismissal, practically sprinted for the door. He wanted to be out of the building before the Admiral changed his mind. He got to his office and stopped, Damn! He had to be here for the Ellis verdict. He dropped down in his chair and checked his watch. If the panel hadn't reached a decision by 1600, they probably wouldn't until tomorrow. Meanwhile, the more he got done, the better. He picked up his phone to talk to Sturgis about Sanderson. 


	4. Part 4

Commandant's Office  
U.S. Naval Academy  
Annapolis, MD  
1405 Local  
  
Mac hurried up the steps of the building that housed the Commandant's office, returning salutes as she went. At the ER, they had numbed her hand to pick out the glass and debris. Then they told her to expect fever and swelling for at least a day before the antibiotics kicked in. Of course, if it stayed swollen and feverish, she was to hustle herself right to the nearest hospital. Right now it felt like it was the size of a Virginia ham and each time she swung it up to salute she half-expected to knock herself silly. She entered the building and after checking at the desk, headed for the office. Vainly, she wished that there might have been some way to clean herself up a bit. Rolling around a filthy alley hadn't done much for her uniform and she'd also managed to bleed on herself.  
  
She reached the outer office and a grizzled master sergeant popped to attention. "As you were, Sergeant," Mac ordered softly, "Is the Bacovian royalty in with the Commandant?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Go right in, they're expecting you." The sergeant watched as she knocked on the door and then entered the room. So that was the Marine who put two assailants in the hospital - a female JAG no less. He smiled to himself, this could be worth a couple of bucks out of Chief Warwick. Old Billy had been in the Navy since John Paul Jones and thought women in the military would be the ruination of them all.  
  
Mac walked briskly into the office and came to a halt at the prescribed distance from the Commandant's desk. Coming to attention, she barked, "Colonel MacKenzie reporting, sir," while staring at a spot six inches above his head.  
  
The Commandant gave a slight smile, "As you were, Colonel, and please have a seat. You've had quite an afternoon."  
  
"Thank you sir, yes sir," Mac glanced around and saw an empty chair next to Marius. As she settled down, she took a surreptitious look around the room. Both the King and Queen were looking at her in concern, Cat was huddled miserably in between them. Marius met her gaze and gave a small smile.  
  
Gheorghe spoke first, "Colonel, are you going to be all right?"  
  
"Yes, your Majesty," Mac lifted her hand slightly, "It's not serious."  
  
"Good," Gheorghe exchanged looks with his wife and then fixed his glare on his daughter, "We've been reconsidering the advisability of a military career." Cat looked stricken.  
  
Mac glanced at Marius and then looking at the royal couple, said cautiously, "If I may, your Majesties. What happened today was not your daughter's fault. Please don't base your decision on this one incident. All Cat and Mo did today was switch places. I don't know many twins but I can't imagine that this is the first time."  
  
Gheorghe grunted while Carol sighed, "No, they've done this before but they're not children anymore. They should have known better."  
  
"Yes ma'am," Mac said smiling, "They're not children, but they are teenagers. Not all their decisions will be good ones." She paused for a second, "Have you asked Cat why they did this?"  
  
The couple exchanged looks again and then Gheorghe shook his head, "Not yet." He looked at Cat, "Why?"  
  
Cat gulped and looked nervously around the room before focusing on her father, "I wanted to see what it would be like, to see where Mo was going to be. She's going to be gone for nine years!"  
  
Mac regarded her sympathetically, "You've never been apart?"  
  
"No." The response was a little ragged, but to her credit, Cat hung on to her composure. She gestured helplessly, "We thought it would be easier, somehow, if I could visualize where she was and what she was going through. That's why I only wanted Colonel MacKenzie, I wanted to be Mo for just a little while. I'm sorry. Please don't punish Mo for this, I talked her into it." She sat looking at her hands.  
  
Gheorghe shared a look with his wife before sighing and wrapping an arm around his daughter, "Promise me you won't ever do this again. I don't think my heart could take the strain."  
  
Cat wrapped herself into her father's embrace, burying her face in his chest. "I promise, Daddy," came the muffled reply.   
  
Mac sat back in relief and caught the same quick look of relief on the Commandant's face. She realized he too, was looking forward to having royalty attend the Academy. Marius leaned towards her and said softly, "Nice work, counselor." She flashed him a quick smile while watching the royal family, she was going to have to upset them again. She rose with everyone else as Gheorghe stood up, extending a hand to his wife and daughter.  
  
Gheorghe nodded to the Commandant, "We've taken up enough of your time, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience." He glanced at his wife and got a confirming nod, "I'm sure my daughter will profit from her time here."  
  
Mac stepped forward, "Your Majesties, may I have a word with you privately?" She looked over at the Commandant, "You too, sir." At this point, including the Commandant seemed like the logical thing to do. If there was a threat to his institution because of the Bacovian princess, he would need to plan for it.  
  
Gheorghe looked a little perplexed but nodded, gesturing for Marius and Cat to leave the room. Mac saw Cat give her a worried glance, no doubt wondering if she was going to throw a last-minute wrench into Mo's plans. In a way, she was but it would encompass the entire family. She waited for everyone to re-seat themselves and taking a deep breath, began to speak.  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
1510 Local  
  
Harm flew down the steps of the JAG headquarters, hurriedly snapping off salutes. The panel had come back fifteen minutes ago, returning a verdict in his client's favor. He barely had time to acknowledge Singer's grudging congratulations before he was headed to his office to grab his briefcase and cover. Reaching his SUV, he tossed the briefcase inside and climbed in. A few minutes later, he was on his way to the Bacovian Embassy.  
  
After a thirty minute drive, Harm pulled up at the gates of the Embassy and gave his name over the intercom. A minute later, a voice came back to tell him he was not on the list and to call for an appointment. Irritated, Harm punched the intercom again, "I'm here to meet with Colonel MacKenzie of the Judge Advocate General's office."  
  
There was a minute or so of silence, then, "Colonel MacKenzie is in Annapolis today. Come back tomorrow."  
  
Harm took a deep breath, "She and the royal family should be on their way back. If you don't let me in, I will stay right here in the entrance and your King and Queen won't be able to get in either."  
  
There was silence and then the gate rolled open. Harm parked his SUV and watched a young soldier approach him, "Sir, if you'll come with me?" Dubiously, Harm climbed out of his vehicle, wondering if they had let him in the gate so they could politely escort him to a cell. He had almost reached the Embassy side door when he heard the gates open again. Turning around, he saw one limo and several smaller cars enter the grounds. Last in line was Mac's corvette. Ignoring his escort, Harm started back to the parking area. As he got closer, he watched with surprise, as a man got out from behind the wheel. 'Who the hell was this?' The stranger hurried around the back of the vehicle to the other side and opened the passenger door. He reached in and helped out a familiar figure. "Mac!" Harm called as he closed the last few yards, aware that his soldier was still with him.  
  
Mac heard her name and turned in Marius' grip. Her look of surprise changed to a smile as she saw the tall Commander approaching. "Harm, what are you doing here?" Mindful of where they were, she glanced back at Marius, "Marius, this is Commander Harmon Rabb, a colleague of mine from JAG. Harm, this is Marius Zali, Head of Security for the Bacovian Embassy." The two men shook hands, silently sizing each other up. Mac waited for a moment and then pursued her original question, "Harm?"  
  
He looked over at her, assessing her condition. His normally squared-away Marine was looking a little worse for wear. From the way she was carrying her hand, he could tell it was bothering her. He grinned at her, "After your call, the Admiral decided the Marines were in need of Naval reinforcements."  
  
"Arriving after the action, I see," Mac raised an eyebrow. Hearing car doors, she glanced over his shoulder and watched the royal family disappear into the Embassy. What she had told them had indeed been upsetting. Mac got the distinct impression they'd seen enough of her for one day. She understood, it was human nature to blame the messenger. Hopefully, after they'd thought about it for a while, they'd accept her and Webb's help. Still, it was a crappy ending to a day that had been going steadily downhill since lunchtime.  
  
Marius watched the American colonel carefully. He didn't know what she had said to the King and Queen in the Commandant's office, but they came out looking particularly grim. After that, they had pretty much ignored her - something he found puzzling and disturbing. She had, after all, been a large part of rescuing their daughter. It had been help he wasn't expecting. By and large, he didn't know who had been more shocked - the men the Colonel flattened or himself. Even though he knew she was a Marine, she was also in a non-combatant branch of the military and a woman besides. He knew he shouldn't take that attitude, especially since he'd began dating Liza Parker, the Queen's executive secretary, but old habits died hard. Liza was doing her level best to educate him about American women. The Colonel had just given that education a major boost.  
  
The Dzuricks hadn't said a word, just gathered up Cat and disappeared into their limo. Colonel MacKenzie... Mac, he corrected himself... had been equally reticent. When he realized she wouldn't be able to drive her car, he'd volunteered to drive for her. He didn't like not knowing what was going on, he took his job seriously. He'd hoped to convince Mac to talk to him but hadn't had any luck and the appearance of the Naval Commander had killed any additional attempts.  
  
"Mac?" Harm asked carefully, "Do you want me to take you home? You look like hell."  
  
She gave him an exasperated look, "Thanks." Mac gazed down at the ground for a moment, she was beginning to feel like hell. They had warned her at the hospital to expect this although she didn't understand why injuring her hand would make the rest of her feel lousy. She looked back up at Harm, "Yeah, I think you'd better." She glanced over at her car.  
  
Marius spoke up, "Your vehicle will be safe here on the Embassy grounds until you can drive it home. Or, if you wish, I can have one of my men follow and I can drive it for you."  
  
"No, I'm sure it'll be fine here. I can give the Colonel a ride back in the morning. I've been assigned to assist her." Harm interjected. For some reason, he preferred not letting anyone at the Embassy know where she lived. It was probably stupid, he was sure if they wanted to find out, they could. He froze for a minute as he realized what he had said. He'd wanted to broach the assistance a little more cautiously. Mac could get testy about encroachment of her cases.  
  
Mac stared at Harm for a long moment. Ordinarily, she might have been thoroughly ticked, but all things considered, all she could really feel was grateful. It wasn't like Harm was unfamiliar with the case and she had the uncomfortable feeling she'd need all the help she could get. Turning back to the Security Chief, Mac smiled, "Thanks, Marius." She knew he was wondering what the hell was going on, but until they had more of a handle on this, she couldn't trust anyone from the Bacovian Embassy. She looked at Harm, "Can we go?"  
  
"Sure," Harm put a light hand to her back and nodded to Marius, hiding his relief that Mac had accepted his help without fighting tooth and nail. He headed to his SUV and helped her into the passenger side, buckling her seatbelt for her. Hurrying around to the driver's side, he jumped in. Several minutes later, they were off the Embassy grounds. Harm glanced over to see her leaning back with her eyes closed. She really did look like hell. "Should I be taking you to Bethesda?"   
  
That opened her eyes, "No thank you. When I was at the hospital, they told me to expect this. I should be fine by tomorrow."  
  
He had his doubts about that, but there was no point in arguing when waiting would prove it one way or the other. They lapsed into silence until Harm arrived at her building and escorted her inside. Mac walked into her apartment with a sigh, Harm following close behind. Hearing the door shut, she turned around and found herself enveloped in his embrace. Relaxing against him, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. Harm rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes as well, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Finally, he spoke, "Okay, it's just us. Are you all right?"  
  
Mac pulled back a little so she could look up at him, "No. I'm tired, dirty, depressed, my hand hurts like hell, I ache all over and I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast."  
  
Harm chuckled, "Don't sugarcoat things for my sake, Colonel." He released his hold on her, "Why don't you get cleaned up and I'll see what I can throw together to feed you. Then, if you want, we can talk."  
  
She gave him a smile, "Thank you."   
  
She started to shrug out of her jacket and he reached over to give her a hand. "Are you going to need help getting cleaned up?"   
  
She quirked an eyebrow at him and grinned, "Your timing could be better, Rabb. Right now I don't think I would be able to properly enjoy it."  
  
He quirked an eyebrow back, "My thoughts are as pure as the driven snow, MacKenzie. I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Uh-huh," Mac turned and sauntered into her bedroom. Harm watched her leave and giving himself a shake, turned towards the kitchen. Even when she felt like crap, she had an amazing effect on him. He decided he was a lucky man.  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1735 Local  
  
He finally reached the privacy of his quarters. Pulling out the cellphone, he thought for a moment and then went and turned on his stereo. Dialing the number, he waited for the other end to pick up. Several rings later, he heard a quiet 'Yes?'  
  
His reply was equally quiet but considerably more intense, "What were you thinking?"  
  
"I saw an opportunity," the voice was defensive. "That American officer knows, we had to do something."   
  
"Do what? Tip our hand? Lend credence to whatever the American has been telling them? Or were you just hoping to make it that much harder for our plan to succeed? Zali is going to launch an investigation, he's not stupid." His tone was biting.  
  
"It almost worked," the voice protested, "We were just unlucky. Who knew she would turn around right then?"  
  
"And now four of those incompetent oafs are in custody. How much do they know?" He held his breath, this was critical.  
  
"Nothing. I talked to them over the phone. They can't connect us with anything." the voice was reassuring.  
  
"They had better not. And if you ever take matters into your own hands again, I will make you regret the day your mother smiled at your father. Do you understand?" His voice held deadly menace. There was a pause and then a faint, 'Yes.' He hung up and stood lost in thought. That idiot could have seriously compromised everything. He would have to contact his superiors and see what they wanted done.  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
1810 Local  
  
Harm looked up from puttering around the kitchen to see Mac leaning against the doorframe. "Hey, feeling a little better?" Her hair was still damp and she was wearing old, comfortable-looking sweats.  
  
She grimaced slightly, "I feel cleaner. I need some ibuprofen." She gestured to the cabinet above the sink. Her hand felt hot, tender to the touch and throbbed incessantly.  
  
Harm motioned her towards the living room, "Go sit down and I'll bring it out with some tea. The water's about to boil." Obediently, Mac turned and headed for the couch. Lowering herself carefully, she curled up in a corner and closed her eyes. Harm followed a few minutes later. Setting the tea and the bottle of pain reliever down, he put a hand to her forehead, "You're warm."  
  
"And achy," she agreed, "It's not supposed to last." She took the pills Harm offered her and washed it down with the tea. Looking at Harm, she smiled, "Thanks... something smells good. What are you concocting?"  
  
"Vegetable soup," he answered, smiling back, "And you're welcome." He stood up to go back to the kitchen, "It should be ready in another twenty minutes. Why don't you rest and I'll wake you when it's time to eat." He waited until her eyes had closed again and headed back to the kitchen.  
  
Thirty minutes later, they were both enjoying his cooking. Mac waved her spoon, "I can't believe you threw together something this good from what you found in my kitchen."  
  
Harm grinned, "Believe me, it wasn't easy." A knock on the door stopped whatever else he was going to say. Glancing at Mac, he went to the door. After putting an eye to the peephole, he turned back towards her looking faintly annoyed, "It's Clay."  
  
Mac stared at him, "Harm, let him in."  
  
"You bet I will," he muttered under his breath, he had a few words for the CIA operative. Unlocking the door, he pulled it open, "Get in here, Clay."  
  
"Good to see you too, Harm," Clay answered, it was a safe bet the Commander was about to vent about the incident this afternoon. He walked over to Mac and looked down at her, "How are you feeling?"  
  
"She feels lousy," Harm said with a scowl, "I thought you were going to keep an eye on her. Where the hell were you while those low-lifes were trying to kill her?"  
  
Clay gave him a mild look, "I was trying to pin down who's involved in this." He glanced back at Mac and grinned, "The operatives I did have assigned to you were suitably impressed. One of them wanted me to ask if you'd consider going out to dinner with him one evening. After the case is wrapped up, of course."  
  
Mac rolled her eyes and leaned back in the couch. Leave it to Clay to say the one thing that would piss Harm off even more. Hoping to head off this particular fight, she gave Webb an inquiring look, "Have you had any luck finding these guys? This would be a lot easier if I could trust at least one person besides the royal family - who, by the way, aren't speaking to me."  
  
Clay arched an eyebrow as he sat down in one of her chairs, "Decided to kill the messenger, did they? Give them a day to get over it. They're going to get our help regardless but it would be nice if they were cooperating."  
  
Harm dropped down on the couch next to Mac and looked at her, "They're mad at you? You kept their daughter from being kidnapped."  
  
"They're scared silly, Harm. They'd already had one shock and then I told them someone close to them was plotting to depose the King and possibly murder the family." She glanced over at Clay, "And it wasn't Mo who almost kidnapped, it was Catalin."  
  
Webb sat upright, "The heir?" Harm stared at her in equal surprise. She watched them reach the next question simultaneously. Harm beat Clay to the asking.  
  
"Did the kidnappers know it was Catalin?" Harm glanced over at Clay, this could put a whole different spin on things.  
  
Clay ran a hand through his hair, his people had missed this! He looked at Mac, "You didn't know it was the heir?"  
  
Mac raised her eyebrows, "They're identical twins and I met them 33 hours and 17 minutes ago. How was I supposed to know they had switched places?"  
  
"I would have thought their own Head of Security would've known. What is he? Blind?" Clay's opinion of the Bacovian security network was rapidly dropping.  
  
"It wasn't his fault, he was face to face with her for all of 2 minutes. She had on a hat and sunglasses and she was acting like her sister. After that, he wasn't looking at her, he was watching the crowds." Mac defended Marius, her gut instinct was that he was trustworthy.  
  
Webb nodded dubiously, he would give the Security Chief another, closer look. The more allies he could gather for Mac, the better he'd feel. The attempted kidnapping had rattled him more than he liked to admit. That thought brought him back to the original, disturbing question: Did the kidnappers know they were trying for the heir or was it just an attempt to grab one of Gheorghe's children? The ramifications were alarming either way. He had a bad feeling about it. Clay looked at Harm and Mac, "Are you two going to the Embassy tomorrow morning?"  
  
Mac glanced at Harm and gave a one-shouldered shrug, "I don't really know. It depends on the Dzuricks." It was bothering her more than she liked to admit.  
  
Clay snorted, "Unless they've completely lost their senses, they'll want you back." He reached forward, patted her leg reassuringly and climbed to his feet. He needed to get on this. "If you don't go to the Embassy, you'll be at JAG?" Harm nodded and Clay gave a thoughtful grunt, "Okay, I'll be in touch." He walked over to the door as Harm got up and followed. Webb turned in the doorway, "Keep your eyes open, Rabb." With that, he headed out into the night.  
  
Harm closed and locked the door and turned back to Mac. She was looking at her soup. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"It's cold."  
  
Harm chuckled, "Easily fixed, Marine. You do have a microwave." He gathered both dishes and walked to the kitchen. Two and half minutes later, he came back out. Mac was resting her chin on her arm, leaning on the back of the couch and staring off into space. He sat down next to her, putting the bowls on the coffee table. Harm rested a light hand on her hip and smiled when she looked over at him. "Worrying isn't going to change anything, Mac." He paused, "Except make your soup cold... again."  
  
Mac gave a small grin that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Noted, Commander." She heaved a sigh and looked at him, "How are we supposed to stop this when the royal family won't talk to me and we don't know who the enemies are?" She thumped the arm of the couch in frustration and scrubbed at her eyes, "Dammit, what if they're targeting the kids first?"  
  
Harm waited until she looked at him and then opened his arms, "C'mere." He folded her carefully into his embrace and leaned back so that she was resting against his chest with her head tucked under his chin. He shifted a little so he could plant a soft kiss on her forehead, "It'll be okay." She was still warm to the touch. He chuckled and she raised her head to look at him quizzically. "Where's your faith, MacKenzie? Batman and Robin are in the house. The bad guys don't stand a chance."  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1930 Local  
  
Carol walked up behind Gheorghe and draped her arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head. He grabbed a hand and leaned back into her, continuing to gaze out the window. "What are we going to do, Geordie? If Colonel MacKenzie is right, we can't trust anyone until we find the traitor." The entire Embassy was abuzz about the attack. Marius had been careful to portray it as an attempted mugging. Speculation was reaching a dizzying height. Half thought it was just a random attack by the violence-prone Americans, others were hinting at deeper, darker plots. No one had any idea that it had been Cat and not Mo in Annapolis or she was sure the conspiracy theorists would have been having a field day.  
  
"I can't believe it," Gheorghe growled, "Our people are like family to us. The Americans are wrong."  
  
"What if they're not? My god, these people almost got Catalin today. What if someone here realized the twins had switched places and passed it along?" Carol shuddered in spite of herself and Gheorghe squeezed her hand.  
  
He turned to look at her, "What if this was staged for our benefit? What if the CIA did this to assure our cooperation when they pursue al-Qaeda within our borders?"  
  
"You don't believe that," Carol stated firmly.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure," Gheorghe turned back to the window, his shoulders tense. It was difficult to accept that someone they were close to would harm the children. The Americans had to be wrong! "Perhaps it would be better if Mo didn't enter the Academy."  
  
Carol pulled her arms back and folded them, "Geordie! Mo has been working incredibly hard for this. You can't just change your mind and say no. And I, for one, refuse to believe the CIA or any other U.S. government agency would resort to such an elaborate ploy when they have only to ask." Her husband, whom she loved dearly, could occasionally make her wish to strangle him. Especially when he succumbed to the 'Let's-Blame-The-Americans' rhetoric of which the rest of the world seemed so fond.  
  
Gheorghe turned back again and glared at her, "It's not so far-fetched. I've heard of other plots they've been responsible for."  
  
"And you think Colonel MacKenzie was a willing participant? Marius said that they'd have had Cat if the Colonel hadn't stepped in. She put two of them in the hospital." Carol stared at him. She'd actually heard that from Liza. It was helpful at times to have your best friend dating the Head of Security. Zali's report to them had been dryly factual except where he'd taken the blame for the whole incident. He'd offered to resign, they had turned him down.   
  
"Maybe they set her up as well," Gheorghe knew there were flaws in his argument, just as he knew that people were betrayed by those closest to them all too frequently. Power brought out the worst and the best in a person.  
  
"After telling her of a suspected plot and asking her to inform us? Geordie, that doesn't make any sense." Carol was feeling somewhat guilty. After hearing what MacKenzie had had to say, they had both virtually ignored her - as if by denying her presence, they could deny the threat as well. Marius had been embarrassed and bewildered by their actions and although he would never dream of criticizing them, he had mentioned it to Liza. Carol smiled ruefully to herself, Liza was becoming quite the intermediary. Marius could pass along concerns without appearing disrespectful of royal sensibilities.  
  
"Maybe not, but does any of this make sense? We're supposed to suspect everyone here at the Embassy? According to Colonel MacKenzie, we can't even trust Marius." Gheorghe warmed up to his subject, "Most of our retainers have been with us for years. Who's the traitor? Daniel? Liza? Lucian?"  
  
Carol looked at him solemnly, "Victor and Katrina." Although he was painfully cordial to her, Carol knew that Victor hated the United States and its people. He'd never forgiven the Americans for allowing the Soviet Union to swallow their little country. It didn't matter that the U.S. had given the royal family sanctuary. When Prince Gheorghe had married an American, Victor had become frighteningly drunk. He gotten her alone during the reception and said some things that angered and terrified her at the same time. Gheorghe's father and Otto Karakasis, the old Head of Security, had rescued her - hustling Victor out of the reception. At her request, Gheorghe had never known. Victor had stiffly apologized several weeks later; Carol had coldly forgiven. Both knew that neither meant a word they'd said but each now knew where the other stood.  
  
Gheorghe looked at her in shock. His uncle was abrasive and difficult, but to countenance harming the children? "You can't be serious."  
  
Carol sighed, if her husband had a fault, it was a fierce loyalty to family. "Yes I am. Victor hates the West and everything it stands for. You... " she paused and gave him a light push, "... have been corrupted by American influences. Your children have dual Bacovian/American citizenships. Mo wishing to become an officer in the U.S. military was probably the last straw."  
  
"Hates the West?" Gheorghe repeated skeptically, "He's always been critical of what he considers American arrogance, but hate? The U.S. gave our family sanctuary when there were very few places we could go."  
  
"Which, no doubt, rankles as well." Carol interjected.  
  
He continued to stare at her, "Victor's not a stupid man. If he were plotting to usurp the throne, wouldn't he be more circumspect?"  
  
"He has been," Carol said, "I see it because I know where to look, but there's no proof beyond my instincts. That's why we need outside help. We need to bring Colonel MacKenzie back into this." She was silent for a moment, "Providing she'll come. We were terribly ungracious, Geordie."  
  
Gheorghe was silent as well, knowing what his wife had said was true. Still reeling from hearing of the attack, it had been impossible to separate the messenger from the message. He sighed, "All we can do is apologize and ask."  
  
Carol gave him a hug, this was one of the reasons she loved him. They both knew all he really had to do was inform the State Dept. that they wanted the Colonel and she would have been ordered to appear, regardless of their treatment of her. "In the morning?"  
  
"In the morning." he repeated firmly, pulling her down into his lap. 


	5. Part 5

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
0830 Local  
  
Harm stared blankly at the report in front of him. Chegwidden had called Mac into his office almost twenty minutes ago. He suspected that the Admiral wanted to confirm for himself that she hadn't sustained any lasting damage. Understandable after that horrendous Memphis trip but the medical people had been correct when they said she'd feel better by morning. He'd swung by to pick Mac up and give her a ride to work and was relieved to find her pretty much back to normal. The hand was sore where the stitches were but other than that, she was fine. The downside was that he had wound up at JAG more than ninety minutes before his usual time. How did anyone function at that time of the morning? He blinked when he heard Mac call his name. Looking up and focusing on her, he smiled, "Hey Mac, did you need something?"   
  
"Your attention, Commander," Mac replied smiling. She had almost finished her meeting with the Admiral when Tiner had interrupted them. The Bacovian Embassy was on the phone and they wished to speak with the Colonel. Mac had taken the call in Chegwidden's office and had been surprised to find Gheorghe on the other end. He had compounded her shock when he apologized for his behavior and asked her to come to the Embassy. The King's timing had been perfect, the Admiral had just told her he was pulling her off this assignment and she hadn't had much luck dissuading him. Gheorghe's call had gained a reprieve.   
  
"Nothing else, Colonel?" Harm replied grinning back and raising his eyebrows suggestively. Maybe Clay had miraculously managed to wrap up the case and they could get back to normal duties.  
  
Mac gave him a look that made him wish they weren't at work and then, changing direction, said, "I've been invited back to the Embassy. The King and Queen are willing to let us help them." She was more than a little relieved to hear from them. With a little luck, it could be done without any further mishaps; at least, she devoutly hoped so. She grinned at him, "It's time for the Batmobile."  
  
Five minutes later, they were on their way to the Embassy, Mac looked over at Harm, "We're going to need to explain your presence to the rest of the Embassy. It doesn't take two officers to tell one teenager about military life and I don't want to force these people's hand thinking that we're looking for them."  
  
"Well, how about the truth... sort of?" Harm glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. "I've been assigned to investigate this attack." He drove along for a minute or so and then thumped the wheel suddenly, startling Mac, "Damn!" At her questioning look, he explained, "I told that Security Chief... Zali?... that I was there to assist you, remember?"  
  
Mac gazed thoughtfully out the window and then turned back to Harm, "It could still work. Initially, you came to assist me because the Admiral wasn't sure of my condition and then he went ahead and turned the incident investigation over to you."  
  
Harm tapped a finger on the steering wheel, "Yeah, that would work." He grinned at her, "It's going to be the slowest and most meticulous incident investigation on record."  
  
Mac chuckled and they both lapsed into a comfortable silence. After several minutes, Mac cleared her throat and looked over at Harm, "Did you know the Admiral was about to pull me off this assignment when the King called?"  
  
Harm looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise, "He was? I thought I had talked him out of it."  
  
"You talked him out of it?" Mac was surprised as well. Giving his penchant for protecting her, she thought he would have leapt at a chance to get her out of any hint of danger.  
  
"Yeah," he smiled ruefully, "I remember thinking I must be out of my mind." He gave her a sidelong look, "It was probably my survival instincts kicking in. I knew I'd be the one you'd kill if the Admiral yanked you off the case."  
  
Mac slapped him on the arm and then grinned, "Thanks."  
  
He rolled his eyes at her, "Promise me you won't go charging into anything without letting me tag along."  
  
She gave him an innocent look, "Nothing could be further from my mind." Harm gave her one more look before returning his attention to the road. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Embassy gates.  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
0912 Local  
  
This time the two officers were escorted directly to the Dzuricks' private quarters by a liveried servant. Gheorghe and Carol were already there when Mac and Harm entered the room. Gheorghe stood up and smiled at Mac, "Colonel, thank you for coming." His gaze drifted curiously over to Harm as he spoke.  
  
Mac smiled in return, "I'm happy to be of service, your Majesties." She turned slightly towards Harm, "May I introduce my partner? This is Commander Harmon Rabb, also of the Judge Advocate General's office. Commander, may I present their Majesties, Gheorghe and Carol Dzurick."  
  
Harm inclined his head slightly, "Your Majesties."  
  
Carol smiled at the two of them, "A pleasure Commander. Please sit, we have a lot to discuss." She waited until they had settled and then looked at Mac, "How are you, Colonel?"  
  
"Fine, ma'am," Mac replied, "Is Catalin all right?"  
  
Gheorghe answered dryly, "As well as can be expected, Colonel. She and her sister are a little too old to be sent to their rooms but not too old to receive numerous and lengthy lectures on the consequences of their actions." He paused and looked over at Carol, "We would, once again, like to apologize for our behavior, it was... disconcerting to learn that one's family is being targeted."  
  
Mac shrugged slightly, "It was understandable, sir. I didn't take it personally." She glanced over at Harm and then back to the Dzuricks, "Now we need to find out who's behind all this and stop them."  
  
"Ye-es," Gheorghe drew the word out as he leaned back in his chair. He focused his attention on Harm, "May I ask, Commander, what your role is in all this?"  
  
Harm replied promptly, "Officially, sir, I'm here to investigate the attack in Annapolis."  
  
"And unofficially... ?" Carol asked while Gheorghe waited expectantly.  
  
Harm looked at them for a moment, weighing his response. "I'll be helping Colonel MacKenzie uncover the threat to your family." Then he grinned and jerked a thumb at Mac, "And keeping her out of trouble."  
  
Whatever response the royal couple had been expecting, that wasn't one of them. As one, they both turned slightly startled looks at the Marine Colonel. Mac had an expression of long-suffering on her face as she looked back at the King and Queen. "And that, your Majesties, is an example of asking the cat to watch the canary." Harm was gazing her innocently.  
  
Gheorghe smiled and raised an eyebrow, "The Commander has found himself in trouble also?"   
  
"He excels at it, sir," Mac answered, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "But he's also good at getting out of it so it does make him handy to have around."   
  
"That's all to the good, Colonel," the King said, growing serious once more, "Because it sounds like we're in quite a bit of trouble."  
  
They nodded in agreement and spent the next hour and a half going over the Embassy personnel and evaluating potential suspects. Their discussion was interrupted by a tap on the door. Daniel Rica put his head in the door, "Your Majesty, the Hungarian delegation will be here in about five minutes." If he was curious about the presence of an American naval officer, he gave no sign.  
  
Gheorghe sighed and stood up, "Duty calls." He looked at Mac and Harm who had risen also, "Please continue, Carol knows everyone as well as I do. Perhaps we can meet again at lunch?"   
  
She smiled as he glanced down at her, "Do you want to keep it en famille, Geordie?"  
  
"I'll leave that up to you three," he replied. "Whatever would be best." He walked out of the room.  
  
Carol watched him leave and then turned back to the two officers, "Where were we?"  
  
Harm leaned back a little, "We've pretty much agreed the only obvious suspect seems to be the Grand Duke."  
  
Carol looked at them both, "But you don't truly think so?"  
  
"Well, he certainly has motive. If anything happened, the Kingship would shift to his family line, correct?" Mac asked. Carol nodded affirmatively. Mac looked over at Harm who gestured for her to continue, "I guess the problem I have is that I can't see him sharing power with the Chechens or al-Qaeda and if they're backing this, he'll have to."  
  
Carol sighed, "He's arrogant enough, he probably thinks he can use them and then toss them aside."  
  
"That will get him killed," Harm said. He sat silently for several seconds, "I think Mac is right. There's someone else. What if al-Qaeda has seen him the same way we do? It would make sense if they inserted or recruited a watchdog of sorts. They could let Victor take the risks without showing their hand."  
  
"So we're back to suspecting practically everyone in the Embassy?" Carol dropped her head in her hands, this was becoming a nightmare. She didn't like jumping at shadows and now she could barely stop herself. She looked up again, "What if we sent the children away?"  
  
Mac and Harm exchanged looks, "I don't know if one place is any safer than another, your Majesty," Harm ventured carefully. He could certainly understand her frustration and fear. "Remember, most of the Embassy staff is on your side. We're only looking for one or two people." He mentally crossed his fingers, they hoped it was only one or two.  
  
"Not that this should be a consideration, but sending the children away might make them think we're closing in. The last thing we want is for them to act precipitously," Mac added. "The CIA is going over your personnel with a fine tooth comb. Hopefully, they'll be able to clear most of your people."  
  
Carol stared at the two, "I have to say right now that I don't believe Liza would ever betray me. We've been best friends for too many years. If I can't trust her, well... " She drifted off into silence, looking at them and raising her hands helplessly.  
  
Mac smiled reassuringly, "I think you're probably right." She glanced at Harm, "If you can't trust your best friend, who can you trust?"  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1145 Local  
  
Mac and the Queen waited for Harm to end his call on his cellphone. After a few more minutes he turned back around, pocketing the phone as he did so. "Well?" Mac asked, aware that Carol was nervously twisting her hands.   
  
"Clay gave both Marius and Liza a clean bill," Harm replied with a grin at the sighs of relief from the two women. "He's still checking into Lucian, Olga and Daniel. He agreed that odds are that Victor and Katrina are wrapped up in this somehow." He looked at Mac, "He's having Mark check it out from his end."  
  
Mac nodded, "That's a good idea." She kept her manner easy and relaxed, she had no idea how Carol would react to help from the KGB. Turning to the Queen, she said, "It's 1150, should we go meet the others for lunch?"  
  
Carol gazed the Marine for a moment, her husband had laughingly told her about the Colonel's ability and her encounter with Daniel. She grinned, "Gheorghe told me about your run-in with his Chief of Staff. I'm surprised Daniel hasn't found some way to glue you to his wrist. He's a very precise man who abhors tardiness." She rose gracefully from the sofa, "Shall we go?"  
  
Harm held the door for the Queen and Mac and then fell in just behind as they walked up the corridor. Idly listening to them chat about the children, he kept an eye out for anything untoward. He doubted anyone would be foolish enough to try anything at this particular moment, but it made him feel better to be watching. His gaze strayed to Carol for a moment. For someone who hadn't been born royal, there was a quiet dignity about her that told him she had found her niche in life. He compared the two women before him. Carol's regal bearing was well matched by Mac's military bearing. They were more alike than he had realized before. Close in height, with the same dark hair and trim figures, they could have been sisters. There was an aura of inner strength about them both. He was well aware of the iron will of his Marine, he didn't doubt the Queen possessed a will equally strong. Harm smiled to himself, wondering if Gheorghe had as much fun as he did trying to cope.  
  
Lunch was uneventful, Harm could see why Mac was becoming fond of the royal family. Both Cat and Mo had come up and apologized to her for their actions of the previous day. He did his best to be as charming as possible. Towards the end of the meal, he ruefully decided he might have overdone it. Both El and Mo watched his every move and when he caught them at it, depending on the age, either giggled or blushed. Carol and Mac found this amusing. Gheorghe, however, was eyeing him as only a father with teenage daughters could. Thankfully, lunch finally ended, the children heading back to their afternoon studies. Harm had learned that the Embassy ran its own private school for the children of the staff. Apparently, it was the first Mac had heard of it, too. They shared a look, the tutors would be worth investigating.   
  
Gheorghe waited for the children and servants to leave the room. He looked at the three, "Has any progress been made?"  
  
Carol nodded, "Marius and Liza are clear."  
  
He raised his eyebrows and looked at Mac and Harm, "Just them?"  
  
"I'm afraid it's a slow process, your Majesty," Mac replied. "These people are good at fading into the woodwork."  
  
Gheorghe sighed and stood up, everyone else climbing to their feet also. "Marius has asked for a meeting of the senior staff to discuss Annapolis. Why don't you and the Commander attend as well?" He glanced at his watch, "They'll be assembling now, the meeting will start in about fifteen minutes." He walked over to Carol and offered his arm. Together they walked to the door. Gheorghe turned and looked back, "Will you be coming with us? We won't stay for the meeting, the staff will be less inhibited, but we can escort you there. That way there will be less grumbling about 'outsiders'."  
  
"If it's all right with you, your Majesty, I'd like a moment to confer with the Colonel," Harm said.  
  
Gheorghe nodded, "Of course, Commander." He gestured towards the door, "In that case, our doorman, Petir, can direct you to the meeting room. We'll tell Marius to expect you."  
  
"Thank you, your Majesty." Harm waited until they left and then turned to Mac, "I think we're going to have to start considering how these people might try to get to the Dzuricks. I've got the worst feeling that we're not going to be able to identify all of them in time."  
  
Mac nodded, worry evident on her face, "I think you're right." She rested her hands on the back of the chair she was standing behind, absently tapping her fingers. "Would they try to take out the entire family here in the States? It'd be a suicide mission. They'd never get out of the country."  
  
"Unless they can disguise it as some sort of accident," Harm responded, his eyes narrowed while he thought it over.  
  
"Like a fire or natural gas explosion?" Mac tightened her grip on the chair. "Then maybe we should get the children out of here."  
  
"I don't know, Mac," Harm scrubbed a hand through his hair, "That might make it easier for them." He shook his head slightly, "What we really could use is reinforcements. People we can trust."  
  
"According to Clay, we can trust Marius and Liza." Mac pointed out, she'd always felt that Zali was trustworthy.  
  
Harm gave a small frown, he wasn't all that happy about including anyone from the Embassy. It would be safer to skirt around them. Unfortunately, they didn't have much choice. Still... "Think we could get Gunny Walters?"  
  
Mac shook her head, "I barely managed to stay involved. Much as I'd like to have him here, I can't see the Admiral letting him come and besides, this is considered foreign soil. We'd have to convince the Dzuricks, too."  
  
"I suppose you're right," Harm gestured towards the door, "We'd better get to the meeting. We can talk to Zali afterwards. Hopefully, everyone will think it's part of my investigation into the Annapolis incident."  
  
They slipped into the meeting room just as Marius stood up to address the group. Standing to the side, Harm and Mac tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible while watching the staff react. Apparently, the Security Chief had decided to let the senior staff know exactly what had taken place in Annapolis. The only detail he withheld was the twins' switch. The two JAG officers watched as various degrees of shock and disbelief coalesced into anger and fear. Harm had to admit, if Marius was hoping to provoke strong reactions, he was getting it in spades. What Harm didn't like were some of the not-so-covert hostile gazes being directed towards both he and Mac. He realized it probably had to do with their being Americans but he would have thought Mac's role in the Princess' rescue would have exempted her. It was surprising. Given that Carol was American, he thought they'd have been less quick to condemn.   
  
Harm dragged his attention back to Marius in time to hear the Security Chief end the meeting. From the disgruntled looks on some of the faces, it was obvious that he had not asked for anyone's opinion. Harm and Mac waited as the rest of the staff trailed out of the room. Marius walked over to them, "Colonel, Commander." He gestured to some chairs, "I'm glad you stopped by, I'd like a word with the both of you." The two JAG officers exchanged glances as they settled themselves. Marius sat as well and absently rubbed his jaw as he composed himself for the questions he was going to pursue. Mac raised an eyebrow at Harm and got an almost imperceptible nod in return. She turned to the Security Chief, "Marius, there's a situation we need to bring to your attention." She took a deep breath and then said quietly, "Right after I accepted this assignment, I was paid a visit by a CIA operative... "  
  
Marius leaned back in his chair, his face expressionless as he listened to Mac lay out their suspicions and theories. He remained silent after she had finished. Logically, he knew it was perfectly correct for them to be cautious about who they would trust but, dammit, this was his turf! He brought his attention back to the two Americans. The Commander was stone-faced while watching him, Mac seemed a little more anxious. Finally, he sighed, it was hard to remain annoyed at someone who had fought as ferociously to protect his charges as he himself. It was also a waste of time, something he suspected was in short supply.  
  
He gave a wry smile and shook a finger at the two, "Do you know the amount of time I spent formulating my strategy to pry information out of you?" He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, "We need to find these traitors and quickly. It's not going to be easy." Marius drummed his fingers while he thought it over. He looked at Harm and Mac, "We're working on the assumption that al-Qaeda and/or the Chechens are planning on killing the royal family?"  
  
Mac nodded solemnly, her eyes narrowed as she watched the wheels turning in the Security Chief's head. She jumped to the anomaly as soon as Marius murmured, "So Annapolis... "  
  
"... doesn't make sense," she finished his sentence grimly. She glanced at Harm, "They were definitely trying for abduction. Why? It would have been easier to kill all three of us and escape in the general panic."  
  
"Maybe they decided on coercion first." Harm looked at Marius, "I'm assuming Gheorghe would do practically anything to ensure the safety of his family?"  
  
Marius stared intently at the two officers, "He would do almost anything... so long as it didn't endanger his country."  
  
Harm heard Mac's soft intake of breath as she also realized what Marius was saying: the King would sacrifice his child for the well-being of his people. He slid an arm across the table until it came in contact with Mac, offering silent support. She had a compassionate heart and he could tell she was contemplating the devastation such a choice would have dealt the royal family. He cleared his throat, "The Grand Duke would know this, wouldn't he?"  
  
The Security Chief nodded again. He wasn't overly fond of the Grand Duke or the Duchess for that matter. "Which makes the kidnapping attempt more of an anomaly. If the Grand Duke is behind this, I can't see him wasting his time."  
  
Mac sat with her brow furrowed in thought, "Is it possible that there are two groups at work here?"  
  
Harm eyed her with alarm, "Dear God, let's not make this any more complicated than it is. Doesn't it seem unlikely that two rival groups would be after the same objective? Bacovia just isn't that well known."  
  
Marius slowly acknowledged the truth of that statement, "What if someone in the group decided to act on his own?"  
  
"That's possible," Harm mused, "Maybe one of them saw an opportunity to make some real money and took a shot at it." He glanced over at Mac to see her reaction to his premise. She was sitting with a slight frown on her face, seemingly focused on a spot on the table. "Mac?"  
  
She turned troubled eyes to Harm and then addressed them both, "Which would be more destructive for the Dzuricks? Having one of their children killed or having to make a choice that results in the death of their child?"  
  
Both men stared at her in shocked silence, she looked at Marius, "Exactly how badly does the Grand Duke despise the royal family?"  
  
Marius blew out a breath, "Enough that he could contemplate something like that." He curled his hands into fists, "He's a cruel man and I know for a fact that he hates Americans in general and the Queen in particular. Unfortunately, he's also not stupid. I don't think the King realizes the depth of his hatred. I only know because my predecessor warned me. Victor made the mistake of getting drunk at Gheorghe's wedding reception. He said some ugly things to Carol before they could get him out of there."  
  
"Gheorghe didn't hear about the incident?" Harm asked in surprise.  
  
Marius shook his head, "Carol didn't want to upset him and cause a rift in the family on her wedding day. She knew Victor was drunk. He apologized to her when they returned from their honeymoon, but I'm sure the Queen knows him for what he is." He sighed in frustration, "The problem is we have not one shred of supporting evidence to take to the King."  
  
"Wouldn't Carol warn him?" Mac asked.  
  
"I'm sure she has said something to him," Marius replied, "But Gheorghe won't condemn a man without proof - even if it concerns his own family' safety."  
  
"So we find the proof," Harm said. "We focus on Victor and Katrina and look for the trail that links them to al-Qaeda. They can't have covered their tracks that thoroughly."  
  
Mac looked at Marius, "You realize that there has to be more people involved in this? Aside from Liza Parker and the Dzuricks, no one else in the Embassy is above suspicion."  
  
Marius nodded grimly, "I am quite aware, Colonel." He rose to his feet, "I think it's time to speak to the royal family." Harm and Mac stood up as well and followed the Security Chief out of the room.  
  
The three walked down the corridor to a small side hallway. Marius pointed, "This elevator will take us to the third floor where the Dzuricks are waiting." He pushed the button and continued, "I'm beginning to believe it might be advantageous to remove the children from the Embassy."  
  
Harm frowned, "Where could you put them where they wouldn't be more vulnerable? Obviously, not back in Bacovia."  
  
A bell dinged and the elevator doors opened, Mac glanced back at Harm as she started forward, "What about... " She never finished her sentence as she stepped into thin air and disappeared. Harm threw himself at her, his fingers just grazing her arm before she fell.  
  
"Oh God, Mac!" Clutching at the wall, he forced himself to look over the edge. His eyes widened in surprise, the elevator was apparently stuck between floors. Instead of falling fifteen or twenty feet, Mac had only fallen five. His stomach clenched, that was still enough to break her neck. She was sprawled on her side, unmoving. He looked over at a shocked Marius as he reversed himself, grabbing the edge of the floor to lower himself down. The Security Chief already had his cell phone out and was barking commands in what sounded like Russian.  
  
Once on the top of the elevator he hurried over to Mac and knelt beside her. Brushing hair off her forehead, he called softly, "Mac? Can you hear me?"  
  
At first, there was no response, but after an anxious minute, he was rewarded with a low groan. Her eyes opened a moment later and she regarded him blearily. "Harm?" She started to shift, only to have him hold her still.  
  
"Mac? Don't move just yet. Can you feel your arms and legs?" Harm held his breath.  
  
She groaned again, "Oh yeah." She tried to bring him into focus, her head was throbbing. "What hap... ?" Her eyes widened slightly and then squinted again against the pain, "Don't tell me I fell down the damn elevator shaft."  
  
Harm gave Mac a grin, exasperation was a good sign, "Yeah you did. Wiley Coyote would have been proud." He helped her roll over on her back and removing his jacket, placed it under her head, "We'll just wait here for the medical folks. Did you hurt anything besides your head?"  
  
"Does pride count?" She closed her eyes for a few seconds, of all the stupid things to happen! Her shoulder was hurting; for that matter, most of her was hurting.   
  
She could hear the smile in Harm's voice, "So this would be the fall pride goeth before?" His hands began a cursory examination, searching for any breaks. Mac couldn't suppress a hiss whenever he touched a particularly tender spot. "Sorry," he said softly. There didn't seem to be any broken bones but she would probably have some spectacular bruises. Her gaze was clearer now, Harm was grateful to note. He cupped her face lightly with his hand, "You scared the hell out of me, you know."  
  
Mac gave him a wan smile, "I seem to do that to you lately, don't I?"  
  
Harm nodded, "Feel free to stop anytime. How's your head?"  
  
"Pounding, but I think I'll live. I feel like an idiot." He looked at her in surprise. She sighed quietly, "C'mon, Harm, when was the last time you fell down an elevator shaft?"  
  
He chuckled, "Well, now that you mention it, I always make sure I'm wearing a Tomcat when I go flying." They both heard a soft thump and moments later, a worried-looking Marius appeared and knelt down beside them. He smiled in relief to see Mac awake and then looked at Harm, silently questioning.  
  
"I think she'll be okay." Grinning, Harm paused for just an instant, "She landed on her head. You might want to check the elevator for damage though."   
  
"Shut up, Squid," Mac grumbled. She glared at Marius, "That goes for you too."  
  
Marius raised his hands in surrender, "Not a word, Colonel." He looked over at Harm and said in a loud whisper, "Is this why they're called 'jarheads'?"  
  
Mac rolled her eyes, "Perfect, now there's two of you." She raised herself up on her elbows and fixed Harm with a beady stare when he started to protest, "Help me up or get out of the way."  
  
"Mac... " Harm started and then reached forward when it became obvious she was getting up, with him or without. He tried again, "Mac, wait for the medical people. They should be here soon." He looked at Marius who had taken up a position on her other side.  
  
"They should be here at any moment, Colonel," Marius agreed, keeping a hand under her elbow as she regained her feet. She swayed slightly and then steadied.  
  
Mac looked at the two of them, "I'll feel much better once I get out of this pit. What happens if this thing gets unstuck?" From the startled looks Harm and Marius exchanged, it was apparent they hadn't considered this. As one, they began hustling her over to the opening. Marius climbed out first and then squatted down and waited.   
  
Harm put his hands around Mac's waist. "Ready?" he asked softly. At her nod, he looked up at Marius, "On three and don't pull on her left arm. One... two... three."   
  
A moment later, Marius had her in his embrace as he stepped back from the elevator shaft. Blushing a little, he hastily released her, "Are you all right?" She nodded and he hurried back to the opening to give Harm a hand up as he clambered out.  
  
As soon as he regained his feet, Harm walked over to Mac while Marius headed towards the corridor. She was leaning against the wall, vainly brushing at the greasy dirt on her uniform. She glanced up as he approached and then went back to brushing at the dirt, "This is the second uniform in two days. Do you have any idea what my cleaning bill is going to be like if this keeps up?"  
  
Harm smiled but didn't let her distract him, "How are you feeling? Maybe you should sit down."  
  
She stopped fussing with her uniform and contemplated the dirt on her hands for a moment. "Right now I'm feeling filthy, sore and stupid, not necessarily in that order." They both looked up the hallway as approaching voices signaled the arrival of the medical staff. Marius turned the corner in the midst of a crowd, speaking rapidly in Russian.  
  
Harm looked at Mac, "What's he saying?"  
  
Mac spoke quietly as she listened, "His security people are here with the medical. He wants the maintenance people and their records here yesterday... " Her eyes widened a little, "He thinks this was sabotage." She broke off as a man and woman approached them.  
  
"Colonel?" the man addressed her politely, "I'm Dr. Magourik. Mr. Zali says you injured yourself in a fall?"  
  
Harm jumped in before Mac could launch into her 'I'm Fine' speech. "She hit her head when she landed, Doctor, and she was out for about a minute." He ignored her muttering, rightly assuming she was correcting the time.  
  
"Ahhh," the Doctor said, stepping closer to Mac and peering intently at her. Mac returned his stare, looking somewhat defensive. Harm vaguely wondered if there was some sort of international class doctors took to learn the same noncommittal noises. He listened as the doctor asked Mac about feeling dizzy or nauseous, how many fingers he was holding up and where else she was hurting. Finally, he pulled out a penlight and flashed it in her eyes.  
  
"Well?" Harm asked.  
  
Dr. Magourik glanced at him and then looked back to Mac, "Colonel, I believe you have a very mild concussion. As for any other injuries, I'd like to take you back to the infirmary for a more complete examination."  
  
Mac shook her head, "Really, I'm fine, Doctor. I've got a headache but I just need to take it easy for while, correct?"   
  
The doctor nodded reluctantly, "Yes, I would prescribe rest; but Colonel, it would be better if you let me examine you."  
  
Harm started to voice his support of the doctor's proposal when he caught the warning look in Mac's eyes. He turned Magourik and said instead, "I'll stay with her, Doctor, to keep an eye on her condition."  
  
Eying them both for a long moment, the doctor shrugged, his displeasure obvious. "If that is what you wish." He said something to the woman who had stayed in the background and they both went back up the hallway. Harm watched as he stopped Marius to speak with him. As soon as the doctor left, Zali headed for the two JAG officers. He stopped in front of them and looked at Mac, "You refused medical attention, Colonel?"  
  
Mac sighed, "I'm fine, Marius. I have a headache and I just need to rest for a bit."   
  
Harm spoke up before the Security Chief could reply, "Marius, I'm going to take Mac back to her place. Would you make our apologies to the King and Queen? We'll pick this up in the morning."  
  
Marius looked from one to the other and then said a little stiffly, "I see." He gestured up the hallway and two young men came forward. He turned back to Harm and Mac, "My men will escort you to your vehicle and I will see you in the morning." He left them then, striding up the corridor.  
  
Harm glanced at Mac, "I think he's annoyed." She nodded wordlessly. "He'll get over it," Harm stated firmly, "Let's get you home."  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
1530 Local  
  
Harm pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. He looked over at Mac, noting the faint signs of strain around her eyes, "Are you feeling worse? Should I go find an ER?"   
  
"No, don't do that. I just need to quit moving around for a while." Mac gave him a slight smile. "Actually, I'm contemplating a long soak in a warm tub."  
  
Harm smiled back, "Okay, stay put. I'll get the door." He hopped out of the car and came around to the passenger side. Opening the door, he offered his arm, "Shall we, madam?"  
  
Mac inclined her head, "Thank you, sir." Together they walked across the street and over to the sidewalk in front of her building. Mac looked down at the ground as they came to the curb so all she heard was the thud and then Harm pitched forward, dragging her down to her knees. She stared at his prone form and then looked behind. Her eyes widening in shock, all she could say was, "You!" 


	6. Part 6

Part 6  
  
Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
1530 Local  
  
Nathan Gallagher stood there in a dark windbreaker and baseball cap, tapping the nightstick he'd used on Harm against his leg. He gave an unpleasant smile, "Surprised, Colonel? I thought Marines were always prepared."  
  
"Are you out of your mind?" Mac responded furiously. She refused to show fear in front of this psychopath and dared not lessen her attention. She rested a hand on Harm's back, immeasurably relieved to feel him breathing. Gallagher stepped forward with an almost casual roundhouse swing and Mac scrambled backwards. They eyed each other for a moment and then Harm groaned. Gallagher glanced at him and looked back at Mac with a small, nasty smile. Then he stepped towards the Commander bringing the club up as he did so.  
  
"No!" Mac launched herself forward, hitting Gallagher in the midriff and taking them both down in a tangle of arms and legs. She kept moving, knowing she couldn't afford to grapple with him. A hard blow from the nightstick caught her the short ribs, freezing her for a moment as she gasped in pain. It was just the opening Gallagher needed as his hand fastened around her neck and threw her to the ground. He landed on top, driving what little breath she had out and then his other hand came up, completely constricting her airway. Desperately Mac tried to break his hold but her vision was already graying out and she felt herself slipping away.  
  
Harm raised himself up groggily, a hand going to the back of his head. He grimaced as he touched the lump forming there. 'What the hell had happened?' He looked blearily around and then froze for a moment in horror as he saw Mac go limp. 'Oh God, NO!' Harm staggered towards them, his hand fastening on the discarded nightstick. Gallagher heard him coming and just had time to raise an arm when the first blow landed. With a crack, his arm broke and Gallagher fell back with a howl. He looked up at the Naval Commander stalking towards him and realized in terror that the man intended to kill him. Clutching his arm to himself, he scooted backwards, sobbing with fear.  
  
Harm advanced on the cringing man. His vision was still blurry around the edges but one fact had come crashing through the haze: this bastard had killed Sarah and because of that, he was going to die. Harm had only managed a step when a dark-suited figure suddenly appeared in his line of vision. With single-minded determination, he moved to go around. The figure moved with him and Harm stopped in exasperation. With difficulty, he focused on the man in front of him. He could hear the stranger talking but he couldn't make himself understand the sounds. With an effort he tried to say something and found he couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence. Finally, Harm managed to grind out one word, "Move."  
  
Agent Martin Mancuso was at a loss. He didn't want to hurt the Commander further but neither could he let the man commit murder. Nothing he was saying seemed to be registering and looking into Rabb's eyes, it was apparent the only thing holding him up was rage. He swore silently to himself, they should have gotten here sooner but their view had been blocked by a delivery van. Crucial seconds had passed before they realized something was horribly wrong. Mancuso and his partner Phil Lofton had arrived on the scene at dead run just as Rabb knocked the assailant off MacKenzie.  
  
Phil skidded to a halt next to the Colonel. She was frighteningly still. Just as he put a hand out to check for a pulse when Mac took a great, gasping breath and began coughing. She rolled on her side and tried to push herself upright, instinctively trying to ease her breathing. Lofton helped her sit up and supported her weight while she continued to cough. Eyes tearing, she finally managed to get her breathing under control and then tensed when she realized she was being held by a stranger.  
  
"It's okay, Colonel MacKenzie. We're with Webb," Phil said quietly.  
  
Mac closed her eyes, lack of oxygen had increased the pounding in her head. "You're late," she rasped.  
  
"Yes ma'am, no excuse," Phil had been berating himself ever since he and Marty had realized something had happened. He didn't even want to think about what Webb would say to the both of them. These people were his friends.  
  
Mancuso took his eyes off Rabb to quickly look over at his partner. He sighed with relief when he saw Phil holding on to an upright Colonel. She was alive. He returned his attention to Rabb. Now he had make the Commander understand. Mancuso latched onto the arm wielding the club and put his other hand in the middle of Harm's chest and pushed. Even though he was a good eight inches shorter, he was heavily built and he easily forced the Commander back. If he had to, he would push the tall man right into MacKenzie's lap. Hoping to break through Harm's obvious confusion, he kept repeating over and over, "Rabb, she's alive..."  
  
Mac's hands suddenly tightened their grip on Lofton's arm and her eyes flew open, "Harm?"  
  
Lofton adjusted his hold on the Colonel. "It's okay, ma'am, my partner's got him," he said, watching Marty maneuver the Commander backwards. He dug his free hand into a pocket, pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. He'd contact Webb once everyone was taken care of.  
  
Harm stumbled backwards, the man in front of him alternately pushing and holding him up. He still wasn't too clear but the one thing he knew for sure was that he was getting further and further from the target of his animosity. He tried to break loose from the annoying person hanging on to him but his coordination seemed to be growing worse. Abruptly he was swung around to face back the way he'd come. It was too much. Harm dropped the nightstick and clutched at the man in front of him as his knees buckled. His eyes widened briefly when he saw Mac sitting upright and then they rolled back in his head as he collapsed.  
  
Marty grabbed hold of the front of Harm's uniform jacket with both hands and lowered him to the ground. He cast a quick look over at Phil and the Colonel. She was making a determined effort to get past Lofton and over to the Commander. He caught Phil's eye and nodded slightly. Acknowledging with an incline of the head, Lofton spoke quietly but firmly to the Marine Colonel. Apparently they reached some sort of accord because in a matter of moments, MacKenzie was at Rabb's side. Phil was right alongside with a hand under her arm. After getting her settled next to the unconscious man, Lofton got up and moved over to his partner. They could both hear sirens rapidly approaching.  
  
"How's the Colonel?" Mancuso asked.  
  
Phil started to answer when he looked over Marty's shoulder and his expression hardened. "Don't move!" he barked and started forward. Mancuso spun around and saw the nutcase from the State Dept., Gallagher, up on his knees.  
  
Gallagher sank back down, cradling his arm, "I need a doctor, that maniac broke my arm!"  
  
Lofton leaned in towards the man, "Shut up or I'll finish what the Commander started." Gallagher stared fearfully at him and subsided. Phil turned back to his partner just as several patrol cars rolled in. He looked at Mancuso, "I'll talk to the cops, you keep an eye on little Mary Sunshine here." Marty nodded and folding his arms, took up a position not far from Gallagher. Phil hurried over to intercept the pair of police officers. He was going to have to explain the CIA's presence without tipping their hand.  
  
He and the police converged on the two JAG officers at almost the same time. "What happened?" asked the older patrolman looking from the military officers to Lofton. Phil jumped in before Colonel MacKenzie could answer, "That man over there attacked these two officers. My partner and I got here just in time."  
  
The policeman gestured for the other officer to go to Gallagher and eyed Lofton suspiciously, "That was convenient. Who are you?"  
  
Lofton reached carefully into his inside coat pocket and pulled out ID, "We're with Homeland Defense. These two JAG officers broke up a weapons theft ring about a month ago. We're exploring a possible overseas link and asked to interview them."  
  
"Here?" the officer said skeptically, looking around.  
  
"That's my fault, officer," Mac spoke up. Her voice was still hoarse, "I had a mishap at work and Commander Rabb was bringing me home. These gentlemen didn't want to delay so we rescheduled the meeting for my place. Gallagher came up from behind. I didn't even realize he was there until he'd already hit Harm." She looked anxiously from face to face, "Is there an ambulance coming? He needs to go to the hospital."  
  
"The paramedics should be here any time, ma'am," the policeman responded. "The assailant's name is Gallagher? You know him?" Lofton smiled inwardly, no wonder Webb liked working with these JAG officers. The Colonel had collaborated his cover story and redirected attention back to the assault without missing a beat.  
  
"We met a couple of days ago," Mac said grimly. "He's with the State Dept. He had an assignment that required a military advisor and he wanted me. It was on a voluntary basis and I refused - I didn't like his attitude. He went ballistic and security had to escort him from the building." She shook her head and then winced. "I had no idea he was deranged enough for this."  
  
"He came after you because you refused to work with him?" the officer said in disbelief. Mac nodded wearily, she was becoming increasingly tired and worried. She hadn't been able to rouse Harm at all. Where the hell were the paramedics? On cue the ambulance pulled up and two EMTs got out. At the same time, the other police officer came back and the two patrolmen stepped back to confer.  
  
One EMT hurried over and knelt down next to Harm, the other started toward Gallagher. Lofton stuck out an arm and stopped him, "Take care of Colonel MacKenzie first, please."  
  
The EMT looked at him in annoyance and glanced back at the Marine officer, "My partner's got it covered." He gestured towards Gallagher, "That man needs attention as well."  
  
"And he can have it. After you look at the Colonel," Lofton moved in front, effectively blocking the man.  
  
"What's the matter with you? You can't tell me who to treat first," the EMT was indignant, who the hell was this guy?  
  
Lofton glared at him and said in a quiet, icy tone, "That lowlife you're so anxious to treat tried to strangle Colonel MacKenzie to death. When we got here, she wasn't breathing. I know she's awake right now but I don't want her keeling over unexpectedly just because no one thought to take a look at her. So get over there and make sure the Colonel's okay or I will dropkick your sorry ass right into next Tuesday... and then I'll let my partner have you." The EMT looked into Lofton's cold, blue eyes and gulped in spite of himself. Looking past, he took in the menacing features of a stocky, dark-haired man. Finally, he shrugged - how long could it take to check out the woman?   
  
Gallagher gave an indignant yelp when the EMT turned away. At a threatening glare from Mancuso he was reduced to grumbling about the unfairness of it all. Gallagher had been positive after he'd given his side to the police that they'd at least arrest that homicidal Naval Commander. He'd been very clear about how both JAG officers had provoked him. MacKenzie had deliberately ruined his career. He was willing to concede that his acting out on his frustration might have been ill-advised but surely the circumstances warranted some sort of reprisal. Now they were withholding vital medical treatment and his life was being threatened by this swarthy Neanderthal. Well, if the police insisted on holding him, he'd have plenty to tell his lawyer. Maybe this was all for the best. The millions he would receive from the lawsuit meant that he could tell those thundering idiots he worked for what they could do with his job. He'd make sure those two JAGs were court-martialed as well - maybe life in Leavenworth; a small price for the damage they'd done to him...   
  
Mancuso glanced over at Gallagher. The man was rocking slightly with a smile on his face as he talked quietly to himself. Marty shook his head - the guy was nuts. Meanwhile, the police had reached the same conclusion. "Honest to god, Charlie, that guy over there is loony-tunes," the young cop was saying. "He thinks he should get off with a warning and the victims should be arrested."  
  
Charlie grunted, he hated dealing with psychos. Invariably, some slick lawyer would get them into a hospital instead of jail and after a week, these nutballs would be pronounced 'cured' and turned loose on the streets. And he'd have to go through all this again. Just once, he wished the nutballs would go after their own lawyers. He glanced over as one of the EMTs walked up, "What's the word?"  
  
"Everybody goes to the hospital. Both the military types have concussions. Hers is relatively mild, his is more severe but I don't think there's any fractures. We're taking them to Bethesda. We'll need another ambulance for the other guy."  
  
"Fine, get the officers out of here. We'll keep an eye on the last guy." He turned to Lofton who had made himself part of the group. "That okay with you?"  
  
It was said sarcastically but Lofton smiled just the same, "Fine by me, I'll go with them to Bethesda. My partner will stay with you guys."   
  
Bethesda Naval Hospital  
Washington, D.C.  
1835 Local  
  
Harm opened his eyes slowly, squinting a little as he stared at a ceiling with fluorescent lighting. Where was he? He remembered leaving the Embassy... What had happened? The sound of a throat clearing brought his attention to the side of the bed. To his surprise, Admiral Chegwidden was sitting in a chair watching him. "Sir?"  
  
"Welcome back, Commander." Even though the doctor's prognosis was good, Chegwidden couldn't help worrying until Rabb had actually awakened. He'd been shocked to learn that his lawyers had been assaulted by that idiot Gallagher and felt partly to blame. He should've tossed the man in the brig when he had the chance. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Confused, sir." He didn't bother mentioning that his head felt like it was about to come off. It was now apparent that he was in a hospital room so something must have happened. Why was everything so fuzzy? They'd been at the Embassy and... Mac! She'd fallen and he was taking her... where? He was pretty sure it wasn't to a hospital. Dammit, what had happened? An accident? He looked at Chegwidden in alarm, "Sir? Where's Mac? Is she all right?"  
  
AJ had watched while Harm sorted through his memories. He'd half expected this confusion, the CIA operative didn't think Rabb had been fully aware of what he was doing. Chegwidden put a reassuring hand on Harm's arm, "She's down the hall, Commander. In better shape than you, I might add. The doctors just want to keep her overnight as a precaution." AJ gave Harm a moment to digest that information and then asked, "How much do you remember?"  
  
Harm frowned slightly as he tried to recall, "Ahhh, getting Mac into the car and leaving the Embassy grounds, sir." He looked anxiously at AJ, "Are you sure she's all right? That was a pretty nasty fall. The Embassy doctor thought she a had a mild concussion but Mac wouldn't let him examine her fully, she didn't trust him." He felt a small surge of triumph at remembering that little tidbit.  
  
"She's fine, Harm. Leaving the Embassy grounds is the last thing you recall?" AJ sighed a little, Rabb would not take learning of Gallagher's attack well.  
  
Harm nodded, "Was there an accident?" A look of alarm spread across his face, "Did I wreck my car?"  
  
"No, your car's fine," Chegwidden mentally braced himself, "You were taking Mac back to her apartment and you had both just crossed the street when you were attacked."  
  
"What?!" Harm started to come upright but AJ's hand on his chest kept him against the pillows. "Oh my god, someone from the Embassy followed us?" How could he have been so careless? Mac could have been killed!  
  
"It wasn't someone from the Embassy, Harm," the Admiral said, watching the Commander carefully, "It was Nathan Gallagher."  
  
"Gallagher? That jackass from State?" AJ watched the emotions chase across Harm's features, incredulity, annoyance, disbelief and finally anger. He fixed Chegwidden with a piercing stare, "Did he try to hurt Mac?" AJ nodded warily. With an oath, Harm nearly made it out of bed, AJ wound up having to use his weight to keep the livid Commander pinned down. "That son of a bitch! I'll kill him!"  
  
"Stand down Rabb! You already tried!"  
  
That stopped him, "I did?" Harm gingerly rubbed his forehead, wincing as it continued to throb. How could he not remember? "Where is he now and why isn't he dead?"  
  
"He's in police custody at another hospital. You did manage to break his arm before the CIA moved in to stop you." AJ was torn between feeling grateful that someone had been there to help and annoyance that Webb was having his people watched.  
  
Harm scowled, "Why didn't they stop Gallagher?"  
  
"Apparently it was bad timing. A delivery truck blocked their view, it took them a few moments to realize something was wrong. The CIA operative I talked to has already apologized to Mac." AJ chuckled, "He's pretty sure Webb is going to kill him for letting this happen."  
  
"He should," Harm grumbled, he was getting very tired. He gave Chegwidden a plaintive look, "You're sure Mac's okay?"  
  
"She'll be fine, Harm. Go back to sleep." AJ watched as Rabb drifted off again. He settled back to think, there was a lot to consider.  
  
Bethesda Naval Hospital  
Washington, D.C.  
0842 Local  
  
Harm opened his eyes and looked over to the side, half expecting to see the Admiral again. Instead, he saw Mac, in jeans and a sweatshirt, half curled in the chair. She had a legal pad propped against a knee and was frowning slightly in concentration as she scribbled down notes.  
  
She glanced up at Harm and blinked in surprise to find him looking back. Smiling, she rose somewhat stiffly and came over to the side of his bed, "Morning, sleepyhead. How do you feel?"  
  
He grimaced slightly, "Like I've got the world's biggest hangover." He patted the side of the bed, "Sit down, Marine. You don't look like you feel that great yourself."  
  
She lowered herself on the bed, taking his hand in hers as she did so, "I feel like a tribute to Technicolor. I think the bruises on my bruises have bruises."  
  
"That's what happens when amateurs try to fly," Harm said, trying to look serious. "Next time ask the pros."  
  
Mac rolled her eyes, "This from the man who never leaves the ground without a forty-million dollar aircraft strapped to his six. You flyboys are all alike." She folded her arms, "I was trying the minimalist approach."  
  
"And that would involve... ?" Harm asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Aim for the ground and miss," she leaned back a little, looking pleased with herself.   
  
Harm's other eyebrow went up as well and he started to grin, "Hate to be the one to bring this up, but you didn't exactly miss."  
  
Mac waved a hand airily, "Not my fault, I should have remembered that Marines don't miss what they aim for."   
  
Harm shook his head and winced slightly at the motion. Leave it to a Marine to turn a mishap into a paean to the Corps. Changing the subject, he grew more serious, "What exactly happened yesterday? The Admiral said it was Nathan Gallagher?"  
  
Mac sobered as well, "Yeah, it was him. He snuck up behind, clobbered you and stood gloating for a minute or so. Then you started to wake up and he stepped in to hit you again and I went after him."  
  
"You did what?!" Harm stared at her, knowing he shouldn't be surprised. Swallowing, he asked, "What happened?"  
  
She picked at the blanket on the bed, "It gets a little fuzzy. I wasn't trying to fight with him. After I knocked him down, I remember trying to get away." She shook her head, "The next thing I knew, the CIA was there, you had been awake long enough to break Gallagher's arm and the police and paramedics were arriving."  
  
"But you're okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. They only kept me because I'd bonked my head at the Embassy and they were feeling cautious. And before you ask, Dr. Berger checked me over as well. All he said was to quit landing on my head, otherwise I'm okay."  
  
Harm leaned back against the pillows, "What did the Admiral have to say?"  
  
Mac frowned a bit, "Surprisingly little, at the moment. I was expecting him to yank us... well, me anyway... off this case so fast I'd get whiplash. Maybe he's just waiting until he can talk to both of us at the same time."  
  
Nodding, Harm closed his eyes. He was feeling tired again. He opened them when he felt Mac's hand on his own. She looked at him and smiled, "Get some rest, Harm. I'll be here when you wake up." He smiled back and closed his eyes once more. Mac waited until his breathing told her he was asleep before going back to her chair. Picking up the legal pad, she re-read her notes and then picked up where she had left off.  
  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
1018 Local  
  
Chegwidden looked at his intercom with annoyance, "Tiner! I asked not to be disturbed unless it was the President coming through the doors!"  
  
"Yes sir, sorry sir. It's Mr. Webb, sir. He's here and he... Mr. Webb! Wait...!" That was all the warning AJ got as Clayton Webb strode into his office.  
  
Rising to his feet, he pinned the CIA agent with a glare, "This is NOT a good time, Webb, and you are not someone I want to see at the moment!"  
  
Clay raised his hands with a sigh, "Admiral, this is not my fault. I was just trying to help."  
  
Chegwidden snorted, "Every time you say that, I wind up visiting my people at Bethesda." He folded his arms, "I'm pulling Rabb and MacKenzie off this case. Put your own people in."  
  
"I wish I could," Webb dropped into a chair. "I've just had my head handed to me for trespassing on the FBI's turf. Officially, I'm no longer involved."  
  
AJ raised an eyebrow, "And unofficially... ?"  
  
"My superiors are taking me on faith. They'll turn a blind eye so long as I remain circumspect and don't get caught by the Bureau. Unfortunately, that means I can't assign any other operatives to this."  
  
Leaning forward, AJ put his hands on the desk, "So have the FBI assign some agents. I'm taking Harm and Mac off before anything else happens."  
  
"I'm afraid it's out of our hands, AJ. The King has requested from State that both of them be assigned to the Embassy for temporary duty. He trusts Mac and by extension, Harm. At the moment, apparently, that particular list is terribly short. The SecNav okayed it." Webb scrubbed a tired hand through his hair, "It's getting more complicated. Gheorghe has decided to get his family out of D.C. for a while. They were scheduled to go to Lexington, Kentucky in three weeks so all the children can visit their grandparents before the Princess starts at the Academy. He's moved it up. They're leaving tomorrow and he wants Mac to go with them."  
  
"NO! Goddammit, absolutely not!" AJ exploded, "Bad enough that she's involved in this at all, the Colonel is on restricted duty. She is NOT traveling anywhere!"  
  
Clay winced and took a deep breath, "Neither of us has choice in this anymore, AJ. I did manage to convince the higher-ups that Harm needed to accompany her. Can you spare anyone else? I think Gheorghe would accept anyone that Mac vouched for."  
  
Chegwidden started to pace. If he stayed still much longer, he'd give himself a stroke. "No, I can't spare anyone else! You've got two of my attorneys as it is. What the hell is the matter with that man? Where is his security?"   
  
"At the moment, it's compromised. I cleared his security chief fairly quickly because we'd looked at him when he moved into the position but with the rest of them, we're starting from scratch. It takes time."  
  
"Well, work faster, dammit; providing security is not in our job description."  
  
"AJ," Clay chided, "He doesn't want them as security guards, he wants them because of their investigative abilities. He's reviewed their service records and he knows how good they are. I'm the one who thinks it would be better if Harm and Mac had support they could trust."  
  
Chegwidden stared at him, then returned to his chair and leaned back, steepling his fingers. He was silent for so long that Clay began to fidget. Just as Webb opened his mouth to say something, AJ beat him to it, "They're going to Kentucky?" Webb nodded slowly. The Admiral gave a small smile, "Then I think I know someone they could use."  
  
Bethesda Naval Hospital  
Washington, D.C.  
1320 Local  
  
Mac exchanged glances with Harm and then looked back at the Admiral and Webb, "We're TDY to the Embassy, sir? Both of us?"  
  
AJ nodded with a scowl, "Orders from the SecNav at the request of State." He looked over at Webb, "Saying no was not an option."  
  
"Yes sir," Mac wasn't sure if she was relieved or not. She didn't like leaving things unfinished but privately, she wondered if she was up to an extended game of cat and mouse. Well, it was a moot point now, she gave herself a mental shake. She was a Marine - she would meet the challenge and God help the miscreants that got in her way. Harm heard the dubious tone in Mac's voice and kept a surreptitious eye on her. He caught the minute change in her body language that told him when she'd slid into kick-ass Marine mode. Smiling to himself, he focused again on the Admiral and Webb.  
  
Webb had taken over the narrative, "Gheorghe has bumped up a family visit to his in-laws. He's staying in D.C., Carol and the children are going to Lexington, Kentucky. Zali will stay with the King, you two are going with the family. They leave tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow?" Mac shot a quick look at Harm and then stared at the Admiral, "But sir, the Commander won't be up to traveling that quickly. He hasn't even been released yet."  
  
Harm raised a hand, "Excuse me, but does my opinion count?"  
  
All three looked at each other and then at him, "No."   
  
Webb saw Harm open his mouth to protest and jumped in first, "I've talked to the doctors, Rabb's cleared to travel tomorrow. Your flight is at 1015 out of Dulles to Louisville and from there it's a fifty minute car ride to the Montgomery's place outside Lexington. They're aware of the problem and have agreed to most of our security measures. You'll actually arrive before the Queen and her children, so you'll have a chance to get settled and familiarize yourself with the place. I've set up a secure phone and fax line as well."  
  
Harm looked at the CIA operative, "They only agreed to 'most'?"  
  
Clay shrugged, "It's a working farm. They raise and train horses, they wouldn't allow anything that might disrupt or endanger that. The family says they'll take up the slack. Gus Montgomery's exact words were 'I'll blow holes big enough to drive through, in any SOB that comes near my little girl and my grandkids.' He's a tough old bird, I imagine he'd do exactly what he says he would." Webb smiled slightly, "I'd try to stay on his good side if I were you."  
  
Mac looked from AJ to Webb, "Exactly how much backup are we going to have out there?"  
  
AJ snorted, while Webb looked a little uncomfortable, "Not a helluva lot, Mac. This sort of thing is actually the FBI's balliwick. They were less than pleased to find the CIA involved at all and they've assigned an agent from the local office to investigate. If he decides there's a credible threat, we might get more people."  
  
"And credible would mean when we're under attack?" Harm asked dryly. He glanced over at Mac before returning his gaze to Webb, "Well, that makes me feel better."  
  
"How many of the Embassy staff is coming along?" Mac asked.  
  
"That's probably the one good thing about this," Clay answered. "As a rule, the Dzuricks only bring staff when Gheorghe is there so he can keep up with his duties. It will be the Queen, the kids and Liz Parker."  
  
"How many people work for the Montgomerys?" Harm moved to the next logical question.  
  
"Including house staff - an even dozen."  
  
"Any of whom could have been turned by whoever's behind this," Harm said flatly. "We're still vulnerable."  
  
"If it's any consolation, the odds are a little better," Webb pointed out. "You've got the Montgomery family - the Queen's two older brothers live on the farm also, the FBI agent, you two and... , " Clay glanced at AJ, "The Admiral has arranged for reinforcements for both of you."  
  
"Sir?" Mac and Harm looked expectantly at Chegwidden.  
  
AJ smiled, "I thought you might benefit from a native Kentuckian, so I've also arranged TDY for the newly-promoted Lt. j.g. Tyler out of the Memphis JAG."  
  
"Pick?" Mac said with a delighted smile, "That's wonderful, sir. Thank you."  
  
Harm grinned as well, "I don't suppose you managed to talk Memphis out of Bobby Perez or Tinker Bell, have you sir?"  
  
Chegwidden shook his head ruefully, "Don't think I didn't try. Major Perez is up to his ears ferreting out the last of Koslov's men. Corporal Bell is still on medical leave."  
  
"How's he doing, sir?" Harm felt a little guilty about not staying current with the young man's condition; but with Mac on restricted duty, he'd been pretty busy. A glance at Mac confirmed that she had kept up with the state of Tink's recovery.  
  
"He's up and moving around but nowhere near ready for anything strenuous." AJ answered regretfully. Bell and Tyler were an unlikely but impressive team. "Lt. Tyler should arrive sometime tomorrow afternoon, he's driving in." AJ looked over at Clay, "I think that covers everything so far. Tiner will be by later with your orders, itinerary and tickets. You'll be in civvies for this part of the assignment; no sense in making you obvious targets and it will be less for the Montgomerys to explain to their staff and clients."   
  
"Yes sir, thank you," Mac said, straightening a little, force of habit made her want to pop to attention even though she wasn't in uniform.  
  
Chegwidden waved a hand as he and Webb started to leave. He paused and glanced over his shoulder when he reached the door, "I know this is probably futile, but you two try to stay out of trouble." He grunted when he saw identical 'Who me?' expressions and strode out of the room, shaking his head. 


	7. Part 7

Part 7  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, KY  
1330 Local  
  
Mac turned off the little county road they'd been following for the last 16 minutes and stopped. In front of them was a wooden arch set in a stone base, a sign suspended across the top. Galloping horses were silhouetted against a hunter green background while tall, white letters proudly proclaimed 'Windswept Farm, est. 1832'. The gravel road wound between black post and board fencing that stretched off into the distance. Mac looked over at Harm, "Wow."  
  
"I'll say," Harm replied, looking around. He'd always been fairly indifferent about horses - he'd had other interests growing up, but he remembered running across the occasional horse-crazy girl in school. Any one of them would have thought they'd died and gone to heaven if they'd found themselves here now, deep in Kentucky horse country. He glanced back at Mac and grinned. She was staring at a small herd of mares and foals. He waved a hand at her, "Hey!"  
  
She looked back at him, somewhat startled, "What?"  
  
Harm gestured up the road, "Shall we?"  
  
Mac smiled sheepishly, "Oh yeah, sorry." She started down the road, driving slowly, her attention divided between steering and looking.  
  
"Tell me it's not true, Mac," Harm finally said. She looked over at him in confusion. He continued with a look of mock terror on his face, "Tell me you're not one of them!"  
  
"One of who?" Mac eyed him suspiciously, he was having too much fun.  
  
Harm's voice dropped into the sepulchral range, "The Horse-Obsessed."  
  
She stared at him for a moment before half-closing her eyes and smiling mysteriously. Two could play this game. Returning her attention to the road, she said in a low, husky voice, "You've discovered my secret, handsome stranger. I'm Neigh-O, Queen of the Looks-Like-A-HorseLands." She gave him a sideways look, "What must I do to keep your silence?"  
  
Harm stared at her wide-eyed, torn between laughing and wanting to jump her right in the car. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Damn! He saw her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. No way would he let her get in the last word, he cleared his throat to try again when Mac interrupted.  
  
"Oh look, we're here!" She smiled brightly at him, "Shall we go meet our hosts?"  
  
He gave her a look that clearly said they weren't finished and then turned his attention to the house. Actually, from the size of it, mansion was probably a better description. A sprawling, two-story Victorian design; it boasted an old-fashioned verandah that was obviously well-used. Three people came down the steps in front, an older couple - no doubt the Montgomerys - and a middle-aged man. Harm and Mac got out of the car and walked forward to meet them. Gus and Harley Montgomery were a study in contrast. Harley was tall and silver-haired and moved with a stately, dignified grace. Gus, on the other hand, personified a bantam rooster. Short and wiry, with an unruly shock of salt and pepper hair; he was bandy-legged and hawk-nosed with piercing blue eyes.  
  
The third man stayed back just a little way. As Harm got closer, he revised his opinion of the man's age to be in the mid-fifties. Only an inch or so taller than Mac, his reddish-brown hair was turning gray at the temples. He was broad-shouldered and just beginning a middle-age spread. There was an easy, confident air about him that said he was used to being in charge.  
  
They came together and Harm smiled, "Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery? I'm Commander Harmon Rabb and this is Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie."  
  
Gus Montgomery stuck out a large, callused hand, "Welcome to Windswept. Call me Gus, 'Mr. Montgomery' makes me think you're a used car salesman."  
  
Harm exchanged a glance with Mac, her eyes were sparkling with amusement. He shook Gus' hand, "Call me Harm, sir."  
  
Mac waited until Gus turned to her then extended her hand and smiled, "I'm Sarah or Mac, if you prefer."   
  
He took her hand and smiled, "Sarah, it is. You're too pretty a girl to be called Mac."  
  
Meanwhile, Harley stepped up to Harm and put out her hand, "Harley Montgomery, it's a pleasure to meet you although I wish the circumstances could have been better."   
  
Her voice was deeper than he expected and what he could only describe as melodious. He smiled as he shook her hand, "I agree, ma'am." She smiled in return and turned to Mac. Harm looked up as the third man finally approached,  
  
"Special Agent Don Smith," he said extending a hand. "Once you and the Colonel get settled, we'll need to talk." He had a soothing baritone voice that reminded Harm of Sturgis.   
  
Introductions were finally over and Harley herded the two JAG officers towards the house. With a warm smile, she suggested that Gus and Agent Smith bring up their luggage. The two men exchanged looks, Gus muttering something that made the agent grin. Nevertheless, they dutifully retrieved Harm and Mac's bags and followed the three into the house.   
  
Once inside, Harley continued across a large entryhall to a open doorway on the right. It was a large room, half-paneled in walnut. The walls were a rich hunter green which made the room seem cozier. One wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookcases complete with a rolling library ladder. The shelves were filled with books, trophies and mementos. The other end of the room was dominated by a large stone fireplace. The floor was heart pine and glowed golden from the afternoon sun that came through the three tall windows. Thick persian rugs were scattered throughout and the overstuffed chairs and couch were wellworn and inviting. Books and magazines were piled here and there and an ongoing chess game was set up in a corner. Looking around, Mac decided that this was what home designers had in mind when they used the ubiquitous term 'family room'.  
  
Harley smiled at them both and gestured towards the chairs and couch, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"   
  
"No thank you, ma'am," Harm answered politely, after glancing at Mac. "We appreciate your hospitality."  
  
"Least we could do," snorted Gus as he strode into the room, followed by Smith who closed the door behind them. "Seeing that that son-in-law of mine shanghaied you two into this mess." He looked at his wife and then back at the FBI agent. "Me and Harley have been thinking about explaining why these two are here without panicking everybody on the place." He looked over at Harm and Mac, "We've figured out two scenarios: A. You're looking into buying some of my hunter prospects... Either of you know anything horses and riding?" When they both shook their heads, he scowled slightly and looked back at Harley, "I guess that leaves us with Plan B: One of you is Gheorghe's cousin, out here to visit with the family."  
  
"Mac," Harm said, pointing at her, "She's fluent in several languages, she'd be more believable as a native of Bacovia."  
  
Gus chuckled, "Not to mention the fact that you might as well have a United States flag tattooed across your forehead. You look like an All-American boy."  
  
"I don't see how this would work," Mac said, frowning. "Everyone at the Embassy knew I was a Marine officer. After that kidnapping attempt, I'm pretty sure the bad guys know who I am too."  
  
"That's no doubt true, but none of the Embassy staff will be out here and if we introduce you as a member of the family, maybe the person who knows better will slip and make a mistake." Harley offered.  
  
Harm nodded thoughtfully, "It might work... " He shrugged, "It certainly couldn't hurt. What would my role be?"  
  
Gus grinned, "Her bodyguard, of course. Royal folks don't go anywhere without their bodyguards." He looked around the room at everyone, "That settled then?" They all nodded and Gus looked over at Harley, "I suppose we should get the ball rolling. Do we start with the MacKrees?"  
  
His wife nodded, "Once we get past Ruth, the others will be easier." She looked over at the JAG officers and the FBI agent, "Ruth MacKree is our housekeeper and her husband Hank is in charge of the grounds. Nothing much gets by Ruth, you'll have to be careful."  
  
"Well, I guess I need to start acting like a bodyguard," Harm said, standing up. He moved over to the doorway and crossed his arms. "Should I start snarling?" he asked lightly.  
  
Mac shook her head and grinned, "You do and I'll make sure they serve you nothing but meat while we're here."  
  
Harm feigned horror while Harley chuckled, "You're a vegetarian, Mr. Rabb? I'll be sure to inform Mrs. Appleton, our cook." Harm shot Mac a look of triumph.  
  
Gus looked at the three of them, "Y'all finished?" Harm and Mac nodded a little sheepishly while Harley just smiled. Grumbling a little, he left and returned about five minutes later with a white-haired couple. Looking at the MacKrees, Gus gestured toward Mac, "This is Gheorghe's cousin, the Countess..." He looked over at Mac, his eyes widening a little when he realized they hadn't decided on a name.  
  
"Madalina Relia Gorzik," Mac supplied with a slight smile and a hint of an accent.  
  
"Right, right... that's a lot to wrap an old tongue around, isn't it?" Gus said with just a hint of relief. He turned to Mac, "Countess, this is Hank and Ruth MacKree."  
  
Mac smiled at Gus, "Please, we are family. You may call me Maddie." Over by the door, Harm was hard put not to roll his eyes. Mac was playing this for all it was worth. He tried not to jump when she turned and gestured towards him. "And this is Harmon Rabb, he is my... protector?"  
  
"Bodyguard," Harm supplied, looking seriously at the MacKrees. Hank looked somewhat surprised, Ruth looked thoughtful. Her glance strayed to Agent Smith.  
  
Harley spoke up, "This is Mr. Smith, from Oglesby & Schaffer. With the excitement of having the Countess arrive, I'd forgotten he was scheduled to be here. He'll be checking out the farm operation and looking over our books for the next week or so." Smith nodded and smiled amicably at the MacKrees.  
  
Gus harumphed and then rattled on,"Well, Countess... " At Mac's raised eyebrow, he amended himself with a smile, "Maddie... The MacKrees are like family to me, Harley and the kids. They've been with us since the earth started cooling. You need anything, you ask Hank or Ruth." Leaning forward, he said conspiratorially, "Just don't annoy Ruth, she's the mean one."  
  
"Gus," Harley chided.  
  
"That's all right, Ms. Harley," Ruth said complacently, she was a tiny wisp of a woman with a soft southern accent. "Mr. Gus speaks from experience; some folks just don't learn quickly." She folded her arms and regarded Gus with a bright stare.  
  
He made a show of looking belligerent, this was obviously a long-standing routine, "And some folks change their rules every time the wind blows."   
  
"I suppose it would seem that way to someone whose memory seems to be failing," Ruth retorted sweetly. She turned to Harley, "I still have a few things to finish up upstairs, Ms. Harley, if you don't need us anymore." Turning to Mac, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Countess, let me know if I can get you anything." Ruth nodded to Smith and Harm and swept out of the room with Hank in tow.   
  
Gus looked over at Harley, "What do you think?"  
  
Harley frowned thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Hank believes it but I don't know if Ruth bought our story." She grinned suddenly at Mac, "You do royalty quite well, my dear. Have you been practicing?"  
  
Harm snorted, "That's the natural arrogance of the Marine Corps shining through, ma'am."  
  
Smith grinned, "That's not arrogance, that's confidence." He looked over at a surprised Mac, "Two tours, 5th Marines in 'Nam, Staff Sergeant when I mustered out."  
  
Harm groaned and covered his eyes, "God help me, now there's two of them."   
  
"You'll get reinforcements, Harm," Mac smiled. She turned to the Montgomerys, "A Navy lieutenant we've worked with before is also coming here. He's driving in from the Memphis NAS."  
  
Harley tapped a finger on her chin, "Will he be in uniform?"  
  
"No," Harm spoke up, "He was told to report in civilian dress."  
  
"Good, we'll just make him one of your associates." Harley smiled and looked around, "I think that covers everything, don't you think so, dear?"  
  
Gus looked over at the FBI agent, "Except for the main reason these folks are out here. How are you planning to catch these people?"  
  
Smith glanced around the room, "I don't know yet."  
  
Gus looked at him incredulously. He took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, Harley jumped in. "I suppose you're still gathering information?" she asked composedly. Smith nodded and she glanced over at Harm and Mac, "And you would like to confer with the Colonel and Commander?" He nodded again. Harley rose and smiled at her husband, "Dear, weren't you planning on putting that new mare through her paces before dinner?"  
  
Gus sputtered a little and then huffed, "Yes."  
  
"Well then, why don't you do that and let these people get to work? We'll have time to get acquainted at dinner." She swept out of the room, herding Gus ahead of her. She paused at the door, "Harm, 'Maddie', your bags are in your rooms. Top of the stairs, turn left, first and third doors on the right. I'm afraid you'll have to share the bath. I'll be in the kitchen and then the office - it's in the main barn - if you need anything." Her gaze sharpened, "I want you to find these people before any harm comes to my family." With that, she was gone.  
  
Harm let out a low whistle, "I think we know who's in charge around here."  
  
Mac looked at the doorway thoughtfully, "I don't know, Gus doesn't seem like the subservient type."  
  
Smith snorted, "Believe me, he's not." He didn't elaborate further but instead pulled out a notebook and pen, "Why don't you two start at the beginning?"  
  
Mac started off the story, with Harm picking up his part as the tale progressed. They'd been talking for about a half hour when a slight commotion in the entryhall drew their attention. A few seconds later, Ruth appeared in the doorway, followed by a sandy-haired young man. Harm rose quickly to his feet, "Tyler! The Countess and I have been expecting you." He gestured towards Mac who had remained seated, while staring hard at the young man.  
  
Pick stared at them both for a split second, then smiled a trifle uncertainly, "I hope I'm not late, sir, ma'am."  
  
"No, no," Harm smiled, "We just arrived ourselves." He turned to Ruth, "Thank you, Mrs. MacKree."  
  
She waved a hand, "Ruth, please and you're welcome, Mr. Rabb. Will the young men be staying here as well?"  
  
Pick grimaced slightly while Harm stared at her in confusion. This was not how he planned to bring this up. He cleared his throat, "We were in luck, sir, Mr. Bell was with me when I got your call. He insisted on coming along." He tried to appear nonchalant while gazing around the room, wondering if Rabb was going to kill him. He snuck a quick look at the Colonel... the Countess?... what was going on?  
  
Harm shared a startled look with Mac before turning back to Tyler, "That is good news, Tyler. I understood he was on an extended vacation. Where is he?" His voice was soft and friendly, his eyes were another story.  
  
Tyler took a deep breath but before he could open his mouth, he saw a man he didn't recognize half rise out of his chair in surprised alarm. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tink filling the doorway, dwarfing the petite Mrs. MacKree. Pick forced a grin on his face as he attempted a casual tone, "Hey Tinker, I was just telling the Countess and Mr. Rabb that you could make the trip. I think we managed to surprise them." He winced inwardly - that was a huge understatement. Judging from the Commander's reaction, he and Tink would have to talk fast to keep the JAG officers from handing them their heads.  
  
Tink looked at him silently before shifting his gaze to Rabb and then the Colonel. Pick thanked his lucky stars that Bell was phlegmatic by nature. The big man stepped into the room, nodding to the Commander and sketching a slight bow to Colonel MacKenzie. "Your Excellency," he rumbled. "It's good to see you again."  
  
The relief Mac felt lent warmth to her smile. Thank goodness these two were quick on the uptake or their charade would have ended before it began. "Mr. Bell, I'd heard you were under the weather; it's nice to see you on your feet." She ignored the confused look Smith gave her. People who took Corporal Bell at face value usually expected his first words to be 'Fee Fie Fo Fum.' The agent would find out soon enough that Tinker was more than he appeared. She found she wasn't nearly as surprised as Harm seemed to be about Bell's arrival. She'd been keeping up with his progress via e-mail with Pick and Ellie Perez. Pick had mentioned Tink's growing impatience at the enforced inactivity. Mac could sympathize. If it had been Harm alone on this assignment, medical leave or not, she would've tied knots in the regulations to make sure she was here. While she knew that their enemy would realize that these two were part of the opposition, she was hoping they'd make the same mistake others had and underestimate the young men.  
  
Harm smiled at Ruth MacKree, "Is there a room available for them, Ruth?" Preferably something soundproof, he added silently, so I can hang them by their thumbs without disrupting the household.  
  
"Of course, Mr. Rabb, I'm assuming they'll be sharing the room?" When Harm nodded, she smiled, "Just give me fifteen minutes to get it ready." She turned and bustled out of the room.   
  
Harm waited until she had left before closing the door. He turned around and pinned the two men with a glare, "What the hell were you two thinking?"  
  
Pick opened his mouth and closed it, for the life of him, he couldn't think of an explanation that would keep the Commander from reaming him. He glanced helplessly at Tink and blinked when he realized his friend seemed unperturbed. The deep voice rolled out like distant thunder across the room, "I'm on leave. I like horses." Pick cringed and tried to look anywhere but at Commander Rabb.  
  
Harm stared at Tink, momentarily at a loss. Smith looked at the big man as if his opinion that the man's size was inversely proportional to his IQ had just been confirmed. A soft sound made them turn their attention to the Colonel. She was leaning forward with her head resting in her hands. The men glanced at each other and then looked back at her. Mac raised her head up and Pick was astonished to see she was laughing quietly.  
  
She sagged back against the chair cushions, wiping her eyes, "You've come to the right place, Mr. Bell. There's lots of horses here, not to mention a number of people who are probably targeting the Bacovian royal family. Are you up to joining in the game?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," Tink was careful to keep from smiling, knowing Commander Rabb was seriously ticked. He'd been counting on a fellow Marine's empathy from Colonel MacKenzie. She knew as well as he did that Squids shouldn't be allowed to wander inland without a member of the Corps for protection and guidance. He was also aware that the Colonel outranked the Commander, although apparently, she rarely forced the issue. If she didn't have a problem, chances were that Rabb would let it drop without tearing strips out of them.  
  
He watched as the Commander glared at Colonel MacKenzie for a long moment. A slight release in the tension was Tink's only clue to the silent conversation that had just taken place. He felt a surge of relief, he had anticipated correctly. That feeling was short-lived when he heard the Colonel ask everyone except himself to step outside. Tink unconsciously braced himself as Colonel MacKenzie uncoiled from her seat with a predator's grace. In a moment, she was standing in front of him, head tilted up, staring him in the eye. The irreverent part of his mind that wasn't cringing at what promised to be quite an ass-chewing, snickered at the picture they must make. He towered over her by a good foot and a half and outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds; yet he was frozen at attention, afraid to do anything that might increase her ire.  
  
The silence drew out, Tink was willing to bet time itself had stopped. He cursed himself for being seven kinds of an idiot to think he could manipulate these two officers and get away unscathed. Shame was alternating with fear. He'd abused the trust he had with the Colonel, she must be incredibly disappointed in him. Before he knew Colonel MacKenzie, he'd had little use for women in the military. It was okay for the other branches of service but being a Marine was different. They were 'First to Fight' and women weren't allowed in combat. How could you respect an officer who was regulated to staying safely in the rear? Then he'd met the Colonel and she'd turned all his beliefs right on their ear. That assignment had damn near killed her... and himself when he'd done his part to rescue her. He'd do it all again, hell, that was why he was here. Tink suddenly felt panic-stricken, was she about to change her mind and send him back?  
  
Mac glared silently at the big man. Although his face was impassive, his eyes were not. She could see he was probably chastising himself more thoroughly than she could have done. She waited a few more seconds and then spoke in a voice that was harder than steel, "Mr. Bell." His eyes jerked towards her as he refocused, she could tell he was holding his breath. "Never do that again." She didn't bother elaborating, he was well aware of his mistake.  
  
"No ma'am." His voice drifted up into the baritone range, Mac decided it was as close to squeaking as that barrel chest could achieve. She broke eye contact and turned back to her chair, "Exactly what is your physical condition, Corporal?" The tone of her voice told him she wanted the absolute truth without equivocation.  
  
He tensed ever so slightly. "I'm still using a cane to get around, ma'am. Running and jumping will probably land me on my face." Tink watched the Colonel anxiously, what was she going to do? Mac turned around to face him, one eyebrow arching up. He answered her silent question, "I left it in the car, ma'am. Most of the time, I only really need it when I lose my balance. That's happening less and less."  
  
"I see." Mac stared at him a while longer before finally letting her features relax a little, "I suppose this is all for the best, Mr. Bell. I'm more interested in your brain than your ditch-digging abilities. We'll just let Pick handle the physical end of things."  
  
Tink smiled with relief, "Yes ma'am, thank you."   
  
Mac smiled back, "Did Tyler fill you in on the assignment?"  
  
Bell nodded, "Everything except you being a Countess, ma'am."  
  
"Ahhh yes, that was a last minute adjustment, courtesy of our hosts. They felt it would be easier to explain our presence to the staff and neighbors. I am now a cousin of King Gheorghe, Countess Madalina Relia Gorzik, here to meet the family. Commander Rabb and Pick, are supposed to be my bodyguards." She looked at him thoughtfully, "How would you feel about being my personal secretary?"  
  
He was silent for a moment and then said, "That would be fine, ma'am, unless you'd rather I did my 'Dumb as a Rock' routine."  
  
Mac thought it over for a few moments, "No, no. Not this time, I think. Playing dumb would mean you'd have to be a lot more physical and that's not an option right now. Being my secretary will probably be best, just try not to be threatening."  
  
Tinker raised an eyebrow, "Would you like me to flounce?"  
  
Mac actually laughed, "Thanks for the visual, but no. Just be mild-mannered, think Clark Kent."  
  
"Yes ma'am. Umm, ma'am? I do have one question." Mac looked at him expectantly. "Who was the other gentleman in the room?"  
  
Mac waved a hand, "That was our friendly neighborhood FBI agent, Don Smith. He's evaluating the situation so the Bureau can decide if it's a legitimate threat and whether it's worth their time. The Montgomerys have told everyone that he's an accountant, here to check the books and look over the farm operation. My first impression is that he's okay." She looked up at him, "I think that covers everything. Do you have any other questions?"  
  
"No, ma'am." He stiffened to attention, "Permission to withdraw?"  
  
"Granted," Mac answered. "I'll come with you. I need to tell our hosts that they've got one more addition to the guest list."  
  
********  
  
Pick glanced at a stone-faced Commander Rabb and then hurriedly directed his attention back to the door of the family room. Fortunately, the third man voiced what he was thinking.  
  
Smith looked curiously at Rabb, "It's pretty quiet in there. What's she doing?" Although earlier the Colonel had seemed amused, Smith had caught the look on her face as he left the room. He'd seen that look often enough on his own superior's face to know what it usually meant.   
  
Smith was something of a problem child in the Bureau. He'd been an agent for many years and he was good at it. Integrity and honor were the bedrock in his life and profession. He had little patience for the foolish, the lazy and the amoral, wherever they happened to be in the Bureau hierarchy, and a healthy contempt for those abused the public trust. He was known for pointing out flaws in his superiors' reasoning; as well as having a disconcerting habit of ignoring orders that were based on political expediency. Thus he tended to find himself on assignments that took him away from the office as much as possible. It was an arrangement Smith found entirely satisfactory.  
  
The SAC had called him in for this particular case, telling him that the CIA had, once again, overstepped their bounds. One of their operatives was jumping at shadows and had (heaven only knew how) managed to involve the Navy. Now they had hysterical military types - lawyers, no less - running around pretending they were James Bond. The Montgomerys were important and influential people in Kentucky; they were not to be subjected to paranoid ramblings just because their eldest daughter had married into some ragtag European royalty. Smith's assignment was look into the matter, assuage the Montgomery's fears and hustle the amateur hour players back to their desks, wherever that may be. "Get this mess straightened out, Don," the SAC had said, fixing his agent with a glare, "because then I'm going to box the CIA's ears for this debacle."  
  
Smith hadn't protested, his own experience with CIA operatives had been less than inspiring. They had been a pair of self-important young men, enamored with their profession but with little practical experience. His assistance and advice had been condescendingly ignored and the case had gone sour. He'd never heard about their superiors' reaction; Smith had received an ass-chewing by the ASAC, who had obviously relished every moment. His problem, now that he was here, was that neither JAG officer seemed to be anything less than professional. After listening to their story, he found not only that his instincts were agreeing with them, but that they shared his passion for truth. Something was going on and he'd be damned if he'd let anything happen to American citizens just because his boss had a blind spot concerning the CIA.   
  
Smith raised his eyebrows at the still-silent Naval Commander. "Mr. Rabb?" he prompted.  
  
Harm bit back at his irritation. This wasn't the agent's fault and he deserved a civil answer to his question. Without looking in Tyler's direction, he said blandly, "Mac's usually at her most dangerous when she's quiet. I almost feel sorry for Bell." He heard the gulp from Tyler's direction and gave him a few more moments to let it sink in. Finally, he turned and looked at the young lieutenant. Tyler looked so pathetically miserable that Harm was hard put not to smile. He relented just a little and used a milder tone, "Mr. Tyler." Pick's head shot up from the piece of carpet he'd been contemplating. "Mr. Tyler," Harm said again. "Whatever possessed you to bring Bell along? He can't possibly have recovered this quickly and that's going to make him a liability."  
  
Pick resisted the urge to scuff his feet. He felt like he was ten years old again and caught raiding the cookie jar. "I wasn't going to, sir, but Tink made some really good points and I decided he'd be an asset for the... um... Countess."  
  
Folding his arms, Harm stared at Tyler, "You decided? It wasn't your decision to make, Mr. Tyler."  
  
"Yes sir, no excuse, sir," Pick wondered if Tink was feeling half as bad as he did. He admired and respected the Colonel and Commander and here he'd managed to disappoint them within the first five minutes of his arrival. Smith looked from one to the other, wondering when the Commander was going to let the young man off the hook. It seemed to him to be on the verge of being counter-productive.  
  
Apparently, Rabb had reached the same conclusion because he said briskly, "Well, he's here now; we'll find a use for him. Just don't do anything like that again." Pick nodded vigorously.  
  
They waited for a few more minutes in silence before the door finally opened. Mac walked out, followed by Bell. She looked at a subdued Pick and raised an eyebrow at Harm. He gave a small shrug and she shook her head slightly. Directing her gaze at all three, Mac smiled and said, "I'd like you to meet my new personal secretary, Mr. Bell." Smith tried to keep from looking incredulous, there must be more to the man than first met the eye. The Colonel didn't strike him as foolish.  
  
Mac turned back to the big man, "Why don't you find out where you'll be staying. I need to talk to Harley." She turned towards the front door and looked over at Pick, "Mr. Tyler? I would appreciate an escort." She headed out and Tyler hurried to catch up, reaching the door before she did and opening it for her. Mac gave him a fond smile, remembering the last time he'd played doorman for her.   
  
She waited on the verandah for Pick to join her and then moved lightly down the steps. Pausing for a moment to scan the grounds, she headed for a large barn about a hundred yards away. Mac strode purposefully along, Tyler staying just behind her shoulder. She glanced back at the young man, "Quite a place, isn't it?"  
  
Surprised out of his thoughts, Pick stuttered a little, "Yes, ma'am." He was silent for another stride or two and then decided, 'what the hell'... "Ma'am?"  
  
Something in his voice made Mac stop and turn to face the lieutenant, "Yes, Tyler?"  
  
He took a deep breath, "Ma'am, I'd like to apologize. I shouldn't have let Tink talk me into letting him tag along. I'll understand if you'd like to find someone else to help you."  
  
Mac regarded him silently and then sighed a little, "Pick, my greatest concern is that Tinker might somehow re-injure himself. These people have very few scruples, it could get ugly." She resumed walking, "However, I happen to feel much better knowing the two of you are here."  
  
Pick stared at her retreating figure for a moment and then hurried to catch up. Positioning himself at her back, he surveyed the surrounding area. No one was getting to the Colonel while he had the watch. 


	8. Part 8

Part 8  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
2230 Local  
  
Mac looked up from the book she was reading when she heard a tap on the connecting bathroom door. A moment later, Harm poked his head in the room. "Are you decent?" he asked quietly with just a hint of a smile.  
  
"What answer are you hoping for?" Motioning him in, Mac grinned as her favorite aviator made his way to the bed. She scooted over to make room.  
  
He settled down, leaning up against the headboard, "That depends, I suppose."   
  
Mac arched an eyebrow and waited.   
  
He smiled, "On which of you is the most indecent: my favorite jarhead, the Countess or... " He paused and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "... Queen Neigh-O."  
  
Mac stifled a laugh and gave him a wide smile, "I'd forgotten about that, Handsome Stranger." Leaning over, she kissed him. She felt Harm's hands on her as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss and then she lost track of everything else.   
  
Lack of oxygen finally forced them apart, Harm rested his forehead against hers. "I've been waiting all day to do that," he said a little breathlessly.  
  
"Me too," Mac agreed softly. Regretfully, she pulled away, "We need to stop right here. We're on assignment and this isn't the place."  
  
Harm sighed as he leaned back against the wall again, running a hand through his hair, "You're right." He gave her a sidelong look, "Let's get this wrapped up tomorrow, so we can get back to DC."  
  
Mac chuckled and slapped lightly at his chest. He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. "You're incorrigible, Mr. Rabb," Mac leaned back against the wall as well. "So, what do you think?"  
  
Harm continued to caress her hand, "I think we should definitely go back to DC tomorrow."  
  
"Harm... "  
  
"Okay, okay... ," he stopped caressing but didn't relinquish her hand. "Well, I think Smith believes there's a threat but until he can provide proof, he's pretty sure his superiors won't want to commit any resources. They're stretched thin enough as it is."  
  
Mac frowned, "He realizes that the first proof we might have is an actual attack? By then it will be too late."  
  
"I know," Harm agreed, "and so does Smith. It's a classic Catch-22."  
  
"So we're on our own."  
  
"It's not like we haven't been there before," Harm pointed out, "and I think we can count on Carol's family for help. Her brothers don't look like pushovers." They had met more of the family over dinner. The two brothers were older than Carol and lived with their families on the farm. Their houses were equidistant apart from their parents - far enough for privacy, close enough for visiting. The oldest, Michael 'Moon' Montgomery was tall like his mother but not nearly as massive as Bell. He was the business manager of the farm and had just returned from his oldest son's wedding. The other brother, Jackson 'Stump' Montgomery, was just a year older than Carol. He was the head trainer at the farm, also married and had two daughters. He was built like his father, small and wiry with broad shoulders topped by a surprising shock of red hair. The Montgomerys had kept up the pretense through dinner, waiting until they were having coffee in Gus's study to tell the boys what was going on. Both had been incensed at the threat to their sister and her family.   
  
"That's true," Mac mused. Her hand tightened in his as she continued in a frustrated tone, "I just hate sitting and waiting for them to make the first move." She fell silent, frowning in thought.  
  
"What?" Harm prompted, she was making him nervous. A frustrated Marine was liable to do anything, especially this one.  
  
She sighed suddenly and relaxed, "I guess there's no way of drawing them out without putting the Dzuricks in additional danger."  
  
"No, there isn't," he agreed, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. Harm leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Listen, go to sleep and we'll tackle this thing fresh in the morning. Everything in place for the royal arrival?"  
  
"Yeah, it's as safe as we can make it for now. A private jet is bringing them to Lexington, Gus and Harley will be picking them up around 0900. Smith has contacted the state police who will be providing an escort and we'll be waiting for them here." Reciting the details somehow made her feel a little better. Mac smiled fondly at Harm as he got up off the bed, "See you bright and early, Squid."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
0730 Local  
  
Mac came to a halt and stood for a moment with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily. Grimacing slightly, she started walking towards the Montgomerys' house. It had been awhile since she'd been able to run and she felt woefully out of shape. Her one consolation - and she knew she was being petty - was that Pick didn't sound any better than she did. He wasn't a jogger.  
  
"You haven't been overdoing it, have you?"   
  
She heard the voice above her as she began to trudge up the steps. Raising her head, Mac saw Harm with a cup of coffee, sitting on a chair on the verandah. She saved her breath for climbing the steps and stopped when she gained the porch. Resisting the urge to lean against the railings for support, she gave Harm a somewhat defiant look, "I'll never get back in shape if I don't push."  
  
He regarded her calmly. Even if she had crawled up the porch steps on her hands and knees, he would have expected that answer. Harm gestured behind her, "Maybe you should refrain from killing Tyler. He's more useful alive."  
  
Mac turned around to see Tyler sitting on the bottom step, arms draped over his knees and his head hanging down while he panted for breath. She tried to keep the smile off her face, there was something eminently satisfying about literally running someone younger into the ground. Giving a noncommittal shrug, Mac turned back to Harm, "He'll improve, running's good for him." She ignored the pathetic groan from the bottom of the steps and headed towards the house, "I'm going to get cleaned up and then see about breakfast. Have you eaten?"  
  
He shook his head and held up the mug, "Just coffee, so far. I could be talked into breakfast." He glanced down the steps, "I'll meet you by the kitchen after I give Speedy Gonzales a hand to his room." He watched Mac disappear into the house and putting down his mug, headed down the steps. Bending over, he grabbed an arm and hauled Pick to his feet. "You're letting the Navy down, Tyler," he said half-seriously.  
  
Pick rolled an eye at him while attempting to straighten up, "Do you any idea how far we went? It must have been five miles!"  
  
Harm couldn't resist, "You're lucky she's not in shape. When I'm running with her, we usually go ten."  
  
Tyler gathered together what was left of his sweat-drenched dignity and said, "I'm a sprinter." Pulling his arm free, he turned dragged himself up the steps. It was a slow process, somewhere along the line, his legs had tripled in weight.  
  
*******  
  
Two hours later, Harm and Mac were waiting on the verandah, watching the long driveway. Breakfast had been... different. They'd walked in together to find Bell already sitting at the kitchen table, working his way through what looked more like a banquet than a meal. He and Ruth MacKree were deep in conversation. Even with Bell in a chair while she stood, Ruth was only half a head taller. The contrast was accentuated by Tink's heavy bass, rumbling in counterpoint to her light soprano. Seeing the two, Bell had interrupted their talk, climbing to his feet and bowing slightly as he intoned "Your Excellency." Ruth had merely smiled in greeting - Carol and Gheorghe never stood on ceremony while at Windswept, she saw no reason to put on airs now.  
  
Ruth hadn't blinked when Harm pulled out a chair and seated Mac at the table; she just produced two more place settings. The cook, however, had been scandalized. What kind of Countess would eat in the kitchen with the help? It was bad enough that no one in the neighborhood ever got around to considering Carol as anything but the Montgomerys' daughter. Gheorghe never showed any sense of decorum either, insisting on being treated like a member of the family. Elsa June had been unable to garner any bragging rights by claiming to have cooked for royalty. That was going to change now that she'd finally gotten an honest-to-goodness Countess and here was the dratted woman eating in the kitchen! If Mary Cordelia over at Covington ever heard about this, she'd have to endure yet another year of listening to that old windbag go on about cooking for Lord and Lady Somebody-or-Other. It wasn't fair!   
  
Fortunately, the pot banging and loud mutterings hadn't affected the quality (or quantity) of the food. Mac, as was her wont, put away an amount of food that even Tink found amazing.   
  
Now they were waiting for the Dzuricks to appear. Bell was ensconced in the study with Smith who'd arrived about forty-five minutes ago. They were perusing through files that Smith had access to, looking for anything unusual. Pick finally made an appearance on the porch, looking better but moving somewhat stiffly. Mac, with the blandest of expressions, had suggested that walking might help.  
  
"What time is it?" Harm asked, keeping his eyes on the road.  
  
"0933." Mac refrained from pointing out that he'd asked the same question 98 seconds ago. She'd stop feeling anxious when the royal family actually arrived.  
  
Harm's sharp eyes saw movement first, "There they are!" They looked at each other in relief, it had been a real fear that an attempt would be made on the trip to the farm.  
  
Several minutes later, the small entourage pulled up, Moon had driven a second SUV to help with kids and luggage. A sheriff's deputy was still with them, the state troopers had left once the vehicles had turned onto Windswept's road. Everyone piled out of the cars at once, talking and laughing. Mac went down the steps as Ruth and Elsa June came out of the house. Harm and Pick stayed up on the porch, the height gave them a better view.  
  
Carol saw Mac coming down and walked towards her, opening her arms and calling 'Maddie!' with a smile on her face. The two embraced and Carol kept hold of Mac's arms as they parted. Still smiling, she said quietly, "I hope you're not angry with Gheorghe and I. We both feel safer with you and Commander Rabb, rather than some strange Federal agent."  
  
Mac shook her head, smiling as well, "We're fine. Besides, I always like to finish what I start." She started to say more, but a small body slammed into her, grabbing her around the waist.  
  
"Cousin Maddie!" El said happily, with a grin at her mother. She was thrilled to pretend that pretty Marine colonel was part of the family. She looked up at Mac, "I'm so glad you're here! Can we go riding together?"  
  
Hugging El back, Mac grinned down at her, "I'm glad to be here, too, but I'm afraid I don't know how to ride."  
  
"Then we'll have to teach you, Cousin."  
  
Mac looked up to find herself surrounded by Carol's children. Cat and Mo were smiling at her a little tentatively, obviously wondering if she was still annoyed with them about Annapolis and Nicky was staring at her with a somewhat mesmerized smile. Carol whispered something to him and he immediately blushed and dropped his eyes. Gus' bellow interrupted, "Say hello to your cousin later and come get your luggage! It's not getting out of the car by itself!" Mac suddenly found herself deserted as the children made a concerted rush to the car and their grandfather. There were shouts and laughter as the children organized themselves and bags began flying out of the open doors of the vehicle.  
  
Shaking her head, she looked at Carol somewhat bemusedly, "Is it always like this?"  
  
Carol smiled as she linked her arm through Mac's and headed for the house, "Sometimes it's worse."  
  
The adults gathered on the verandah and hugs and greetings were exchanged while the unloading process continued. Mac stepped back a little and watched the group. Carol was talking animatedly with Harley, Ruth and Elsa June. Harm was conversing quietly with the deputy while Moon and Tyler listened nearby. Gus was standing on the steps, overseeing the children. Once everything was out of the car, the kids started sorting through and grabbing bags.  
  
El was first to bound up the steps, almost lost in the load she carried. Carol looked at her worriedly, "That's not too much for you, is it?"  
  
"I'm fine, Mama," El said over her shoulder, "It's not heavy, it's just a lot." Ruth opened the door for her and she charged into the house.  
  
Mac smiled over at Carol, "Does she always do everything at a run?"  
  
Carol gave her a wry grin, "She even falls asleep fast."  
  
Whatever else she was going to say was interrupted by a shriek from inside the house. The sound galvanized the adults and then there was a general rush for the door. Mac and Carol made it through first and stopped dead in the entryhall with everyone piling in behind them.  
  
Bell stood frozen by the landing, El was sitting down just in front with bags scattered all around her. She turned her head when she heard the adults come in and said with eyes the size of saucers, "Mama! It's a giant!"  
  
Dead silence greeted El's statement for a few moments and then there was a small snort as someone tried to suppress a laugh. That was enough to get the ball rolling and soon a number of the adults were laughing heartily. Carol stared at the big man. She'd never seen anyone stand quite so still and still manage to look so menacing. When she glanced over at the Colonel, she was surprised to see Mac trying hard to stifle her laughter. Slowly, Carol relaxed and smiled reassuringly at El. If Colonel MacKenzie wasn't worried, then perhaps she shouldn't be either.  
  
Mac walked over to El, whose head was now swiveling between the laughing adults and the giant. She offered her a hand up with a smile, "El, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Thomas Bell. He's here to help me." She looked up at Tink, "Mr. Bell, I'd like you to meet the Princess Christina Elena Gabriela Dzurick."  
  
Bell bowed slightly and said, "Your Highness."  
  
El glanced back nervously at her mother, who had moved up to stand beside Mac. Carol gave her another smile and nodded her head. Squaring her shoulders, El stepped up and extended her hand, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bell."  
  
Bell leaned down and shook her hand, "The pleasure's mine, Princess."   
  
El looked at his hand in wonder. If she stretched, she could just fit her hand around three fingers. Looking back up at his face, she said tentatively, "You can call me El, if you'd like."  
  
"Thank you," Bell smiled and then said gravely, "My friends call me Tinker."   
  
He watched as she put it together, her eyes widening, and then her hands flew to her mouth in an attempt to keep from laughing. She looked up carefully to see if she'd hurt the big man's feelings.  
  
Bell leaned down a little further and whispered, "It's okay, I don't think I look anything like Tinker Bell and I've never even met Peter Pan."  
  
El eyed him suspiciously, adults sometimes had the weirdest sense of humor. Well, you could never go wrong pointing out the obvious, "Peter Pan is just a story."   
  
"You mean you don't believe?" Bell straightened up with a comic look of dismay, putting a hand on his chest. El began to giggle, it was hard to be afraid of someone who could be so ridiculous.   
  
"Well, I certainly do if it'll get this show on the road!" Gus' bellow reverberated throughout the entryhall. El and Tink weren't the only ones who jumped. The old man stomped into the middle of the hall and stood with his hands on his hips, "There'll be time enough for introductions and talk AFTER the cars are unpacked." He swept a finger around, pointing at all the kids, "So you start carrying," he wheeled back and pointed at Bell, "and you stop scaring them." He glared at the remainder of the group, "And the rest of you - Get Out of The Way!"  
  
Mac found herself in the family room with the remainder of the adults that had been sent scurrying by Gus. Ruth and Elsa June had retreated to the kitchen. She gave Carol a wide-eyed look, "Was your father ever in the military?"  
  
Carol chuckled, "Regular army in Korea, he was a sergeant in a tank battalion. Said it was the closest he could get to cavalry." She turned and looked at Bell who was hovering just a little behind Mac.  
  
Mac turned also and then said, "I beg your pardon. Carol, this is Thomas Bell. Bell, this is Carol Montgomery Dzurick, Queen of Bacovia."  
  
Carol smiled and stepped forward, offering her hand, "Just Carol while I'm at Windswept. May I call you Tinker as well?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am, of course," Bell said uncomfortably as he shook her hand. He glanced over at Mac, unsure of the protocol when a queen asked not to be treated like a queen.  
  
Mac looked at him blandly, "You may still refer to me as 'Countess'."  
  
Tink grinned as he executed a bow, "Yes, your Excellency."  
  
Mac grinned as well and then grew serious, "Did you and Don make any progress?" She looked over at Carol, "Tink is our resident computer expert. He and Agent Smith were looking for any suspicious activities on the net."  
  
Bell shook his head, "We've been accessing fringe groups for any unusual amount of activity on their sites or in their e-mail accounts. So far, nothing's jumped out. D.E. ... Don is going to start checking bank accounts."  
  
"You mean terrorists have websites? That's crazy." Carol was incredulous.  
  
"They're not exactly terrorists. These are groups that have similar beliefs or ideologies that might be approached for logistical support. Things like obtaining passports and driver's licenses, setting up bank accounts, renting houses and such. They themselves wouldn't necessarily be violent." Bell had found the whole thing fascinating. Smith wasn't as accomplished on a computer, but years of investigative experience helped him look for angles Tink wouldn't have thought of on his own.  
  
Harm and Tyler walked over and Carol greeted the tall Commander warmly. Harm smiled and turned a little towards Pick, "Carol, this is Thaddeus Tyler." Pick winced as Harm continued, gesturing towards Bell, "He's the other half of Mutt and Jeff here." He looked at Pick, "Tyler, this is the Queen, Carol Dzurick."  
  
Carol heaved a small sigh, "Please, it's just Carol while I'm here at Windswept. Do you prefer Thad or Thaddeus?"  
  
Tyler glanced over at Mac, who nodded encouragingly. Bell just looked amused. He took a deep breath, "Actually, ma'am, I'd prefer if you'd call me Pick. That's what my friends call me." He shot a glare at Tink who gave him a benign smile.  
  
Carol nodded, "A pleasure to meet you, Pick." She turned her attention back to Harm when the tall commander asked about any progress Marius was making on his end in D.C. Harley, Don and Moon drifted over as the conversation continued and soon Mac and Carol found themselves recounting everything that had happened from the very beginning. In no time at all, it seemed, Ruth poked her head into the room to announce that the unpacking was completed and lunch was ready.  
  
Lunch was even more lively than the last time Mac dined with the Dzuricks. The kids, excited to be at their grandparents', chattered happily. Don had been included in the invitation to dine with family; Harm, Tyler and Bell were being fed in the kitchen. The agent kept everyone amused with tales of his upbringing in a small coastal town on the outer banks of North Carolina. When lunch was finished, El grabbed Mac by the hand, "Would you like to come to the stable with us? I want you to meet Henri."  
  
"El," Carol said, "Cousin Maddie might not be as excited about horses as you are." She smiled at Mac, "The kids practically live at the barn whenever we're here."  
  
Mac smiled down at El, "It's okay. I'd like to see all the horses." She looked back up at Carol, "Would you tell Harm where I'll be? He has a tendency to think the worst when he doesn't know where I am." Carol nodded and then watched with amusement as the Colonel was surrounded by her children and propelled out the door. Shaking her head, she went back to the kitchen to find Harm.  
  
******  
  
Mac followed the kids to a slighter smaller barn that was adjacent to the main building. A covered walkway connected the two. El went immediately to a stall on the right of the entrance and Mac trailed along behind her. Stopping at the stall door, she watched as El scratched vigorously along the neck of a small tan horse. "He seems to be enjoying that," she commented. The horse had the same half-closed look of pleasure that Jingo would get when she scratched behind his ears.  
  
El grinned, "It's one of his favorite scritchy spots. This is Henri, he's a Connemara pony."  
  
Leaning against the doorpost, Mac said, "I'm afraid I don't know that much about horses. I thought ponies were little."  
  
"You're probably thinking of Shetlands, they don't get very big. Ponies are anything under 14 hands. A hand is four inches." El added that as an afterthought as she reached around to the front of the door and grabbed a halter and lead. "Henri is about 12 hands and he's what's called a buckskin. It's not a common color for the breed. Some people think he's mean because he's got hazel-colored eyes."  
  
Mac moved out of the way as El led Henri into the aisle and put him in crossties. Glancing up the aisle, she saw that each of the kids had a horse out. "Does everybody have their own horse?"  
  
"No," El replied, "The rest are Grandma and Grampa's, but it's okay for us to ride them. Everybody's got their favorites." She looked down the aisle and grinned, "Mo's got your horse out."  
  
Mac's head swiveled around in surprise, "My horse? I don't know anything about them."  
  
El grinned at the look on Mac's face, "That's why we're going to teach you. Go down and say hi, his name is Jack."  
  
Somewhat bemused, Mac walked down the aisle to where Mo was brushing a reddish-brown horse. "Do your grandparents know you're giving away their horses?" Mac asked with a half-smile.  
  
Mo grinned at her over the horse's back and handed Mac a brush, "Jack is our chief babysitter and beginner's horse." She motioned towards Jack's front end, ignoring the look on the Colonel's face, "Start at the top of his neck and brush in the direction of the hair... Jack taught all of us to ride, he's really very patient and good-natured. Grampa puts him with the foals when it's time to wean them. He keeps them from getting too upset."  
  
Mac was silent for a few minutes as she absorbed the information and concentrated on brushing. Finally, she asked, "What kind of horse is Jack?"  
  
"He's just a grade horse. If he was a dog, you'd call him a mutt. We think there's Morgan in there but Mom picked him out for his temperament. Horses that are good with kids are worth their weight in gold, purebred or not. Most of Windswept's horses are thoroughbreds, with some warmbloods here and there." Mo was now picking up Jack's feet. Mac glanced around the aisle. El, Cat and Nicky were in the middle of putting saddles on each of their mounts. Her gaze swept past a young man who was watching them from an open doorway with a partially filled wheelbarrow in front. Something about him drew her back, but he had disappeared into the stall.  
  
"Mo," Mac said quietly. Mo's head came up at the tone in the Colonel's voice. Mac tilted her head slightly in the direction of the young man while keeping her eyes on Mo, "Who's that cleaning out the stall?"  
  
Mo bent down and rummaged through the grooming box while looking surreptitiously up the aisle. She straightened back up with a towel in her hand and began wiping it over Jack, "That's JD Cartwright, his family lives a couple of miles up the road. I'm kind of surprised to see he's still here." Mac raised an eyebrow and Mo hurried on, "What I mean is that the Cartwrights aren't really known for their work ethic. JD started almost a year ago, I figured he'd quit after the first month. It's not great money and the work's hard." She frowned, "Maybe Uncle Jack's taking him on as an apprentice."  
  
Mac gave a non-committal grunt, it could be she was just being paranoid. It would be perfectly normal for one of Windswept's employees to show curiosity when the royal family invaded the barns. She glanced back towards the stall again; it was that niggling feeling that something wasn't quite right that made her uneasy. She gave her head a slightly rueful shake, this whole scenario was foreign - how would she know what was out of place?   
  
Mac looked back to find Mo regarding her worriedly, "Is something wrong?"  
  
Sighing, Mac shook her head, "Probably not." She grinned at the young woman across from her, "It's probably nerves from contemplating my first riding lesson." Mo nodded slowly, Mac could see she wasn't buying the story entirely.   
  
"It won't be that scary, Jack's really good with beginners." Cat walked up with a saddle and saddlepad draped over her arm. Mo nodded her thanks, taking the pad and sliding it into position before placing the saddle on Jack. Something about her sister's demeanor alerted Cat and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What's the matter?"  
  
Mac looked at the two for a moment before replying in Russian, "Later, this is not the time or the place." She watched identical looks of surprise flash across the twins' faces, apparently, their parents hadn't mentioned her language skills. Then they turned and looked at each other silently, Mac could practically hear the discussion taking place. They turned back and Cat replied in Russian, also, "Tonight. You need to tell us what's going on." She smiled and switched back to English, "Ready to try riding, Cousin?"  
  
Ten minutes later, Mac found herself in an indoor riding ring sitting on top of Jack. She hadn't realized it would seem so far off the ground. Mo busied herself adjusting stirrup lengths and showing Mac the correct way to hold the reins. Jack stood patiently and Mac began to feel somewhat less tense.  
  
Mo smiled up at her, "If you feel a little shaky, just grab for mane. I'll be right here." She started walking and Jack obediently followed along. The starting lurch made Mac clutch at his mane but Jack took no notice and she relaxed once more.  
  
Cat rode up alongside on a brown and black horse. A bay, Mac told herself firmly, and Jack was a chestnut. She'd dig into Gus' library for something on beginning riding so she wouldn't feel totally lost with the terminology. It'd be like preparing for a case. She smiled up at Cat, the bay was at least eight inches - two hands - taller than Jack. "Who's that?" Mac nodded towards Cat's horse, not quite willing to take both hands off the reins.  
  
"Her name's Windswept's Calypso," Cat grinned, "but Daddy calls her Calamity Jane."   
  
Mac raised her eyebrows, "She gets into trouble?"  
  
"She causes trouble," Mo contributed from the other side. "When she's bored or annoyed, she has a tendency to amuse herself - usually at someone else's expense. Cal's not a horse I'd trust with a beginner."  
  
"She's dangerous?" Mac said in surprise, she didn't think the Montgomerys would keep a horse like that.  
  
"All horses are dangerous," Cat replied. "They're big animals who have evolved as somebody else's lunch. They'll see threats where you don't and a half-ton or more of panicking horseflesh can hurt. Cal actually doesn't panic often. Her problem... our problem, I should say, is that she's smart and she's got a sense of humor."  
  
Mac stared at her dubiously and Cat smiled, "I'm not being anthropomorphic. Cal's done too many things too often for it to be considered coincidental. She likes making people feel stupid."  
  
Not quite convinced, Mac nodded anyway and the twins proceeded with her lesson. After another twenty minutes, Mo called a halt. Although all she had done was walk, Mac felt that she'd made real progress. Both sisters were founts of information, not only telling her what to do but why it was done that way. When she finally dismounted, Mac was surprised at how rubbery her legs felt.   
  
Mo kept hold of one arm while Mac braced herself with the other against the ever-steady Jack. She smiled apologetically at the Colonel, "I should have warned you to expect that. Your muscles aren't used to riding. It gets easier each time." Mac nodded, she was already getting her sealegs back.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Mac turned to find Harm leaning on the arena fence along with Tyler and Carol. Taking off the riding helmet and running a hand through her hair, she grinned reassuringly and then glanced back at Mo. Taking the helmet, Mo gestured towards the fence with a smile, "Go on, I'll take Jack now." She waited for Mac to start walking before clapping the helmet on her head and swinging up in the saddle. After taking a moment to adjust the stirrups, Mo turned Jack with an easy grace and trotted back out to join her siblings.  
  
Reaching the fence, Mac smiled when Carol asked how the lesson had gone, "Fine, your daughters and Jack are good with fumble-fingered beginners." She quit smiling as she added quietly, "They both want to know what's going on. What have you and Gheorghe told them?" 


	9. Part 9

Part 9  
  
Bacovian Embassy  
Washington, D.C.  
1330 Local  
  
Making sure the door was locked, he pulled out the cellphone and contemplated it sourly. Their carefully laid plans were unraveling and the cause for it could be laid at the feet of that impetuous idiot. The ill-conceived kidnapping attempt had alerted the Dzuricks and Zali. It would have been better if they had just killed all of them in Annapolis instead of grabbing the Princess. No matter that Zali and that American officer were supposed to have died - they hadn't, and the two then rescued the girl. The only bright spot was that the lowlifes that had been hired had no idea who they were working for.  
  
He dropped heavily into a chair and rubbed his jaw. Gheorghe had the devil's own luck. Tinkering with the Dzuricks' private elevator should have resulted in at least one of them breaking their necks but instead it had been the clumsy American from a lower floor. Because of the thrice-cursed, failed kidnapping, Zali had been immediately suspicious. Once sabotage had been determined, Gheorghe had reacted immediately, sending his family out to his in-laws with the flimsy excuse of visiting grandparents.  
  
And now here he was - his superiors weren't interested in excuses and killing Gheorghe, while satisfying, was pointless if the rest of the family survived. He needed to kill the King's family first and he needed to get all of them at one time. Going after them individually would be far too chancy, the odds of getting everyone - slim. He slammed a fist down on the armchair in frustration. How was he to manage it with the Dzuricks in the middle of that huge estate with a veritable army around them? Heaving himself out of the chair, he began to pace. There was always a way, he would just have to find it.  
  
Striding up and down the room, he ran various scenarios - rejecting them, one by one. When his gaze passed over his laptop, he stopped in mid-stride. What if... ? Sitting down at his desk, he opened it up and then paused before calling up the internet. No, not here... not with his own computer... He'd go find one of those - what did the Americans call them?... ahh yes, a cyber cafe. He had the vague beginnings of a plan. Hammering out the details might take a few days and that could be to his advantage. The Dzuricks would become more nervous and their guardians would become increasingly tense. Mistakes would be made.  
  
Smiling to himself, he checked his schedule. He would have the evening free, he could start then. Perhaps he could convince his superiors to give him a little more time. He'd been approaching this problem from the wrong angle. Going after the sheep would cause them to scatter, going after the shepherds would make them huddle together in fear. When they were too terrified to move, he would slaughter them all. He glanced at the cellphone he'd placed next to the laptop on his desk and frowned; but first, someone needed to be reminded that there were consequences to their actions.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1610 Local  
  
Mo and Cat watched their mother pace nervously back and forth in their grandfather's study. Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb sat quietly on the sofa on the other side of the room. Their grandparents were busy keeping El and Nicky occupied. The twins exchanged worried glances, they couldn't remember a time when their mother didn't seem to know exactly what to do.  
  
"Mom?" Cat finally ventured, "does this have anything to do Annapolis?"  
  
Carol took a deep breath, wishing Geordie was here to help. He always knew what to say. She cleared her throat, "Yes and no. Yes, it does have something to do with Annapolis and no, the reason we gave you for that incident wasn't all of the story." The twins once again exchanged glances and then focused intently on their mother. Carol leaned back against Gus's heavy mahogany desk and folded her arms. "This wasn't some splinter dissident group hoping to gain money and media attention for their own political agenda. One of the U.S. intelligence agencies has come across an alliance between the Chechens and al-Qaeda. They're in Bacovia, up in the western mountains. They want to overthrow our government and replace it with one of their own. I assume, at that point, Bacovia will become a haven for terrorists."  
  
Cat spoke first, her tone was hard and it made her sound older than her eighteen years, "Overthrow is a euphuism for assassination, isn't it?" Carol nodded slowly and Cat turned her attention to Mac, "You knew? This is the real reason you're here?"  
  
Mac shook her head, "I didn't know when I volunteered for this. I was on restricted duty and this was to be a simple tour guide assignment." She leaned back, rubbing the back of her neck, "I found out when I arrived home after that first day when I met all of you. A CIA operative that Harm and I have worked with before showed up at my apartment. Unfortunately, all he had at the time was an intercepted phone call and his suspicions. He asked me to talk to your father. I was going to speak to both your parents when we got back from Annapolis. "  
  
Carol took up the tale, "The Colonel told us right after the kidnapping attempt while we were still at the Academy. When we realized we didn't know who we could trust, your father and I asked the State Department to assign Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb temporarily to the Embassy to help us."  
  
"But I thought you said the Chechens and... ," Mo's eyes widened as she realized what her mother was saying. "You mean one of the Embassy staff is helping them? They want to kill Daddy?"  
  
Carol was silent, trying to think of how to phrase her answer. Cat beat her to it, exhaling with a sharp hiss, "They want to kill all of us." She spun back towards the two JAG officers, "That's why you're both here instead of in Washington."  
  
Harm silently gave the young woman points for composure. "That's what we suspect," he told her. "Because they're trying it here in the U.S., we think they'll try and make it look like an accident."  
  
Cat snorted, "How do you kill five people in the same family and make it look accidental? Slaughter us and then put an Uzi in one of our hands and pretend it went off while being cleaned?"   
  
"Cat!" Carol glared at her daughter, "That was uncalled for."  
  
"I'm sorry," Cat told the JAG officers, although both noted that she sounded more angry than repentant. "Do we have any idea who the traitor is?"  
  
Harm shook his head, "We have our suspicions but no proof and it's quite possible that there's more than one."  
  
"Uncle Victor," Mo spoke up suddenly, looking at her mother for confirmation. "He and Aunt Katrina have never seemed to like us."  
  
"Dislike isn't proof," Carol pointed out. For some reason, she was reluctant to let her daughters know her own conclusions. Probably a maternal need to protect them from the unpleasant reality that their own relations would countenance regicide.   
  
Harm and Mac glanced at each other and then back at Mo. "There is a good chance your uncle is involved in this somehow," Mac said, giving Carol an apologetic look. She recognized the conflict the Queen might feel but at the same time, Mo and Cat needed to hear this. They were no longer children and neither was stupid.  
  
"The monarchy goes to Victor's line if something happens to all of us, doesn't it?" Although Mo had phrased it as a question, both she and Cat - all the children, for that matter - were well-versed in the matter of succession. She looked over at Harm and Mac, "If Victor's attempting a coup, where do the Chechens and al-Qaeda come in?"  
  
"Money," Cat said flatly. She glared at her mother, "We all know Uncle Victor and Aunt Katrina have been living off Daddy for years. He's auctioning off Bacovia to the highest bidder." She straightened up, folding her arms, "What are we doing to stop them?"  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
2210 Local  
  
Harm tapped on the connecting door to Mac's bedroom and stuck his head in, "Hey."  
  
Mac was sitting cross-legged on her bed with a number of books scattered about. She smiled when she saw him, "Hey, yourself." She shifted various tomes out of the way to make space for him.  
  
Harm settled obligingly and picked up one of the volumes. "Horsemanship by Margaret Cabell Self." He looked through the other titles, "The Horseman's Bible, Centered Riding, The Body Language of Horses." Grinning, he looked at her, "Planning on reading all these tonight?"  
  
Mac pulled the 'Horsemanship' book out of his hands, "No. I'm researching. I can't do anything about the terrorists at the moment so I may as well use the time constructively. The Dzuricks and Montgomerys seem to live and breathe horses. If nothing else, I'll be able to follow some of the conversations. It wouldn't hurt you to learn a little more about them."  
  
"No, thank you," Harm replied, "I think I know as much as I need to - they're big, unpredictable and dumber than your average dog. Until they actually come up with a horse that's lighter than air, I'll stick with Tomcats."  
  
"Don't let any of the Dzuricks hear you calling their horses dumb. You'll have more than terrorists to worry about," Mac warned with a smile.  
  
"Women," Harm snorted, "I don't think I've met a female yet that hasn't been enamored with the beasts." He paused for a moment as he thought and saw an answering gleam in Mac's eye.  
  
"Singer." They both said together and laughed. Harm recovered first, "Seriously, what is the fascination with horses?"  
  
Mac arched an eyebrow, "I might ask what the fascination is with flying."  
  
"That's different," Harm protested, "It's... there's a freedom that... oh hell, it's hard to explain... You don't even like flying."  
  
Mac held out a hand, "Welcome to the world of women and horses. And, by the way, it's jets I don't like flying in - biplanes are just fine."  
  
Harm took her hand and grinned, "Okay, truce. Does this mean you'd like to come with me the next time I take Sarah up?"  
  
She gave him a slow smile, "I might be persuaded... Handsome Stranger."  
  
He pulled her closer, "I can be very persuasive, my Queen."  
  
The next few minutes proved the truth of that statement. It was a persistent ringing that pulled Mac reluctantly back to the here and now. She rested her forehead against Harm's, "Somebody's timing just sucks." He sighed and nodded as she picked up the phone, "Hello?" She looked over at Harm and mouthed 'Webb'.   
  
He rolled his eyes in exasperation and leaned back on the bed with a frustrated sigh. It wouldn't surprise him if Clay knew exactly what he was interrupting. He listened to Mac's side of the conversation, wondering how Webb would react to the twins knowing what was going on. He was willing to bet the CIA operative wouldn't take it that well.   
  
He congratulated himself when Mac's voice took a sharper tone, "They had most of it figured out already, Clay. They're not children and they can keep their mouths shut." She was silent for a few moments and then said, "Okay." Another minute of listening went by and, sounding surprised, Mac said, "Really? When? Any ideas? Right... fine, let us know how that turns out. Thanks, Clay, good night." She hung up and sat quietly, obviously reviewing what Webb had told her.  
  
"Mac?" Harm asked, "What's going on?"  
  
She took a deep breath, "The big news is that the Grand Duchess was one of about dozen injured when an apparently out-of-control car careened into a crowd outside the Kennedy Center. The driver was falling down drunk."  
  
"Webb obviously doesn't think it was an accident." Harm stated, "Did he say why?"  
  
"There aren't any bars that close, how did the guy manage to get to the Kennedy Center without hitting anything else? Clay thinks that this confirms it was Victor behind the kidnapping attempt, which he probably initiated on his own, and putting Katrina in hospital was a warning from his backers."  
  
"Using a car seems pretty extreme, they could have easily killed her," Harm pointed out.  
  
Mac shook her head, "I get the feeling from Clay that they didn't care one way or the other. They wanted to remind Victor of their reach. Oh, and Mark is back in Moscow - he's sent operatives into Bacovia to see if they can find the terrorists."  
  
Harm raised an eyebrow, "Gheorghe will have a fit if he finds out about that."  
  
"They're strictly reconnaissance, hopefully they'll get in and out without anyone being any wiser."  
  
"Any news on our own little band of terrorists?"  
  
"No, it seems they've gone to ground but Clay doesn't think it will last that long." Mac blew out a long breath of frustration, "I hate waiting for the other shoe to drop."  
  
"Which is probably part of their strategy," Harm shifted books out of the way until he could lean up against the headboard. He opened up his arms, "Come here and educate me on some of those fascinating facts about horses."  
  
Mac grinned as she slid into his embrace. Picking up a book, she began to read.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
0730 Local  
  
Harm glanced back as a looming presence distracted his porchside vigil. He shook his head slightly as he returned his gaze to the farm driveway. It was beyond him how someone the size of Bell could move so silently. The two men watched quietly as the little group gradually drew nearer the house. Mac had acquired company on her morning run. Mo and Cat had joined her, with Tyler still bringing up the rear.  
  
Bell suddenly chuckled, "You'd think by the third day, he'd show a little improvement, sir."  
  
Harm smiled, "Well, he's hasn't died... yet." He took another sip of his coffee and went back to his silent musing. Yesterday had been completely uneventful and they were all beginning to feel a little edgy. Fortunately, for him, the Dzurick children had made it their mission to cram years of experience with horses into as many lessons as Mac could stand. It was a welcome distraction; God knows Mac would have been ready to start hunting for terrorists on her own. Playing someone else's waiting game wasn't her style. He still worried about her, the last thing she needed was to fall off one of those four-legged hulks. However, compared to having some murderous zealot taking shots at her, he was willing to grant that the horses were the lesser of two evils.  
  
On those rare moments when the kids weren't somehow affixed to a horse, the twins could be found camped in the family room with their noses in books. Nicky and Tyler had hit it off pretty quickly. Pick was enjoying the unique experience of being an older brother. He was already a competent rider, although he preferred western to english saddles. Whenever Tyler had free time, the two would pack sandwiches and drinks and disappear on their horses for a couple of hours. It hadn't surprised Harm at all to find that Pick was rapidly becoming familiar with practically every square inch of Windswept. If the young man had been born a century earlier, he'd have been an Indian scout.  
  
El had taken to stalking Tinker. She had discovered that he was difficult to surprise and now the game was on. Harm rubbed a hand through his hair wondering if any of it had turned white yet. El had turned the house into a Hogan's Alley, pouncing unexpectedly out of closets and from behind doors and furniture. Mac looked at it as impromptu training but Harm was pretty sure the twelve year old had taken a few years off his life the first time she ambushed him. He looked over at Tink again, "What's the score, so far?"  
  
Bell chuckled again, it sounded like the earth percolating. "I'm ahead, 6 to 1. El owes me two dozen chocolate chip cookies as of this morning."  
  
"Does El know how to bake?" Harm asked with a grin.  
  
Tink smiled, "Elsa June has agreed to supervise."  
  
"What happens if you lose?"  
  
"My mother's famous Split Second cookies."  
  
Harm's eyebrow quirked up in amusement, "And will your mother come out to bake them for you?"  
  
"I'm surprised, sir, I thought you were aware of the Marine slogan, 'First to Bake'." Tinker assumed a serious expression and began to recite, "This is my oven. There are many like it but this one is mine. My oven is my best friend... "  
  
Harm laughed, "That's blasphemy, young man. I'd be careful, the Colonel might have you souffled at sunrise."  
  
Tink drew himself up, "I am a Marine, sir, I'd rise to the occasion."   
  
"And if that didn't pan out?"  
  
"Then being souffled would be the yeast of my worries."  
  
"Enough, stop already," Harm groaned, holding up a hand in surrender. Changing the subject, he asked, "Are you and Don making any progress?"  
  
Scowling a little, Tink shook his head, "Part of the problem is that there are so many hate groups online. And we're just guessing that one of them will be utilized somehow. Don has gone to Louisville today to see what he can turn up there and to try and convince his boss that we could use reinforcements."  
  
Harm gave Bell a puzzled look, "I thought he was from the Lexington office?"  
  
"He is, but Lexington is more of a resident agent office and Louisville is the main office." Tink looked slightly uncomfortable, "He's bypassing the chain of command. He said the Resident SAC was a short-timer whose main goal is to keep his last months in the Bureau uneventful."  
  
"Wonderful," Harm snorted sourly.  
  
"What's wonderful?"  
  
Harm turned to find Mac on the top step, the twins were still at the bottom alternately harassing and sympathizing with Tyler. He gestured to Tink, "Don's gone to Louisville to try and dig up some help. He doesn't think his boss in Lexington will want to get involved in anything as disruptive as assassination of visiting royalty."  
  
"Isn't he the one that assigned this case to Don? Didn't he expect to have to do something?" Perplexed, Mac looked at the two men.  
  
"I think he just wanted Don to clear the lot of us off the FBI's turf, reassure the Montgomerys and chalk this whole thing up to some CIA operative's overactive paranoia, ma'am," Tink said with no small amount of disdain. He had little use for someone who refused to acknowledge the obvious because it would be inconvenient.  
  
Mac rolled her eyes at Harm, "You're right, that's just 'wonderful'".   
  
They all turned when Carol and Harley came out on the porch. 'Good mornings' were exchanged as Tyler and the twins came up the steps. Harley smiled at her granddaughters and then turned back to Harm and Mac, "We're expecting some visitors this afternoon. A Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Pike from Chicago; they're coming to look at some prospects for eventing."  
  
Harm frowned, glancing over at Mac and Tink before looking back at Harley, "Are you sure they're legitimate? Isn't there some way to put them off until after Carol and the kids leave?"  
  
Harley folded her arms, "They arranged this over a month ago before we knew the children were coming. And we are in the business of selling horses - this place has to earn its upkeep. I talked to Don about all this earlier, he couldn't find anything suspicious."  
  
Harm rubbed the back of his neck, "Yes ma'am, I apologize. I guess I'm feeling a little paranoid."  
  
Harley waved a hand, "No need to apologize, I prefer that you stay paranoid until this unfortunate business is cleared up." She smiled brightly at everyone, "Would anyone care to join me for breakfast?"  
  
Mac smiled, "I'd love to, just give me a few minutes to get cleaned up."  
  
Bell and Tyler looked at each other uncertainly and Carol grinned at them, "The invitation included everyone, gentlemen." It was hard to miss how her children were attaching themselves to these young men, she intended to know more about them. "Shall we meet in the dining room in, say, fifteen minutes?" Smiling once more, she turned to join her mother and the two ladies swept back into the house.  
  
"And that," said Mo with a grin, "is what's known as a command performance." She looked over at Cat as she headed for the door, "We'd better get a move on - dibs on the shower!"  
  
Mac headed in as well and looked back at Tyler, "C'mon Pick, you've only got 13 minutes and 48 seconds left to get cleaned up." She disappeared into the house and with a small groan, Tyler trudged in after her.  
  
Tink glanced over at Harm and grinned, "Think I should go carry him up the steps? The way he's moving, it's going to take him fifteen minutes to get to the room."  
  
Harm laughed as he climbed to his feet, "Just let him muddle through." Turning serious, he said, "I think I'll give Clayton Webb a call and see what he can find out about the Pikes."  
  
Bell looked at him curiously, "You suspect something? They set up this appointment long before the Montgomerys even knew the Dzuricks were coming."  
  
Harm grimaced slightly, "I know. Maybe I am growing paranoid, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."  
  
Bell shrugged as he followed the tall Commander into the house, you couldn't argue with logic like that.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1330 Local  
  
"Looking good, Maddie."  
  
Mac turned and looked over at the rail by the opening of indoor arena. She was currently astride the rock-steady Jack, flanked by Cat on Calypso and Mo on a sturdy-looking gelding whose stablename was 'Goose'. She saw Carol leaning on the fence with Liz Parker beside her, mounted on a handsome bay. Obedient to the silent summons, Mac turned Jack towards them, remembering to give with one hand as she tightened the other. Keeping her inside leg steady, she shifted her outside leg just behind the girth and pressed lightly. She could do this at a walk, trotting had been an entirely different kettle of fish. Fortunately, Jack was quite at home with beginners and didn't take advantage of her deficiencies. Cat assured her that Cal wouldn't have been so generous.  
  
Liz smiled as they drew near, "Being initiated into the ranks of the horse-crazy, Your Excellency?"  
  
Carol chuckled, "I'm afraid my children have left their cousin with little choice. Every time she turns around, someone's throwing her onto a horse."  
  
Mac smiled at the two women, "It hasn't been that bad, I'm enjoying it." There was a symmetry in riding that appealed to her logical mind. There was no need to mention childhood dreams of having a horse, she was sure most children had them. She looked over at Liz, "That's not the same horse you rode yesterday, is it?" Both she and Harm had been surprised when Liz had appeared on horseback yesterday. They knew the Montgomerys had dropped Liz off at her parents' place on the way in from the airport, but until Carol had explained that Liz's parents owned the adjoining farm, they hadn't realized she was so close. The Parkers weren't in the business of horses like Windswept and their place was smaller but they had been avid foxhunters for years and always had a stableful of horses. For as long as Carol could remember, she and Liz had always hacked on horseback between the two places.  
  
Liz smiled, "No, this is Gallant. He's a green hunter Mom's been bringing along. She thought the ride over here would be good for him."  
  
"He's beautiful," Mac said admiringly. She glanced down at Carol and saw she was wearing britches and boots. "Are you going to ride today, too?"  
  
Carol nodded, "Jackson asked me to put Elsinor and Gypsy Queen through their paces for the Pikes when they arrive." She looked at her watch, "They should be here fairly soon."  
  
"Mom?" Cat asked, glancing over at her sister, "Would it be alright if we took Cousin Maddie on a small trail ride? You know how boring ringwork can get."  
  
Carol frowned, taking in the slightly startled look on the Colonel's face. "It's also safer. Your cousin's only had a couple of days of practice."  
  
"But she's doing really well," Mo chimed in brightly, "and you know how steady Jack is. It's such a beautiful day. We thought we'd take a turn around the broodmare and yearling pastures and then finish up by the outdoor course. I'm sure Cousin Maddie would enjoy watching you ride."  
  
Carol thought it over and looked at Mac, "Well, I'll leave it up to you, Cousin. Would you like to try?"  
  
Mac was silent for a few moments while she thought about it. On one hand, leaving the safe confines of the ring was definitely a scary proposition. On the other hand, childhood dreams of riding horses usually encompassed green fields. It would also remove her and the twins from the vicinity when the Pikes arrived. They were probably just who they said they were but Mac found herself with Harm, wishing to err on the side of caution. She glanced back at the girls and then smiled at Carol, "A small trail ride sounds like fun."  
  
"I think I'll tag along," Liz said, "Gallant needs to work in a group."  
  
Carol sighed dramatically, "Everyone's deserting me, even my best friend. Fine, leave, I'll just make my lonely way to the stable... "  
  
"Where Stump will have your horses already brushed and saddled, you poor dear," Liz wryly concluded for her. "If you miss the feel of horsehair sticking to your hands and face, I'll let you curry Gallant when we get back."  
  
Chuckling, Carol pushed away from the rail and went to open the gate for her daughters and Mac. Shutting it after them, she shook a finger at the group, "Everyone comes back in one piece, is that understood?"  
  
"Promise, Mom," Cat smiled. "We should reach the outdoor course in time to catch at least one of your rides." She gestured to the rest and they headed out.   
  
Carol watched as her daughters, once again, took up positions on either side of the Colonel. Liz put Gallant behind them all. She actually wasn't that worried about Mac, Mo was right about stolid, dependable Jack. However, when Harm heard about it, he'd no doubt have a fit. His concern for the Colonel was right up there with his concern for her and her family. Turning back into the barn, Carol nodded absently at the stableboy who was raking the aisle near the entrance. She wondered if Jackson really did have the horses brushed and saddled.  
  
JD Cartwright kept his head down as he stared at the trim figure striding up the aisle. She'd barely noticed him, like he was just some sort of fixture. Soon, though, things would be different. 


	10. Part 10

Part 10  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1410 Local  
  
Harm stood in the shadow of the porch and sighed. When Mac hadn't returned after an hour, he'd wandered down to the barn. There, he'd been surprised to learn that she had left the safe confines of the arena to ride around Windswept. Carol hadn't had much time to talk to him about it other than to say that her daughters and Liz would keep an eye out for Mac. The Pikes had arrived at that moment and he'd beat a hasty retreat back to the house. The less they saw of him, the better. Typically, he hadn't been able to reach Clay and had left a message asking him to find out what he could about the Pikes.  
  
He watched as Harley, Gus, Carol and Stump welcomed their visitors to Windswept. The Pikes appeared to be an average couple; middled-aged with a teenage son in tow. After the obligatory chatting that seemed to be part and parcel of Southern hospitality, the group headed into the barn. Harm turned as the front door slammed open and grinned when Nicky came barreling through. There was something about boys and doors - he remembered his mother threatening dire things every time he had catapulted in or out of the house. Pick came through the door next, his arms full, reflexively starting to come to attention when he caught sight of the Commander. Nicky had already disappeared down the steps.  
  
Harm waved a hand, "Relax, Pick." He gestured at the various bags and bottles, "Off on another expedition?"  
  
"Yes sir," Pick smiled, "There's a wooded area up in the northeast quarter of the property, sir. I thought we'd ride through there. We haven't covered all of it yet."  
  
Harm nodded, "Sounds good, just remember the plan: You see anything suspicious, get the hell out. You have your cellphone?" He smiled at Pick's emphatic nod, after Memphis the young man never went anywhere without a phone. "You might see the 'Countess' while you're out and about, the twins talked her into going with them on a trail ride. Please don't run any of them over on your way out."  
  
Pick blinked in surprise, "Is that safe?"  
  
The Commander gave Pick a rueful look, "Probably safer than having a certain bored and frustrated somebody looking for ways to keep busy."  
  
Pick's eyes widened slightly as he contemplated just what a particular Marine Colonel might consider doing. He nodded his head quickly in agreement, "I think you're right, sir." He glanced down towards the barn, "I'd better get going before Nick takes off without me."  
  
Harm laughed, "No danger of that, Pick. You're carrying the food." He waved a hand, "Go on, keep an eye on the prince and try not to fall off your horse."  
  
"Yes sir!" Pick grinned and hustled off to the barn.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1410 Local  
  
Mac couldn't help smiling as she took in the beautiful Kentucky landscape. At the moment, it was hard to believe that she was on assignment and that there were people out there with murder on their minds.  
  
"It's fun, isn't it?"  
  
Mac looked over to see Cat grinning at her. She nodded, "It certainly is." Glancing back at the scenery, she asked, "Has this place always belonged to your family?"  
  
Cat smiled and nodded, "Yes, our five times great-grandfather, Eli Montgomery, homesteaded here. He was a younger son of the Tidewater Montgomerys of Virginia. Horse breeding was the family business and he came out here in 1832 to make his fortune."  
  
Mo took up the tale, "He did pretty well for himself. If there's one thing the Montgomerys know - it's horseflesh. By 1860, he'd acquired about 600 acres, not to mention a wife and three sons. With all the turmoil that was going on, he wrote to his oldest brother and suggested that he send their breeding stock out to Kentucky for safekeeping. It wasn't easiest thing to do for either of them. Grandfather Eli, his wife and two sons were staunch Unionists, the rest of the family was loyal to the South. There had been harsh words exchanged but, in the end, keeping the bloodlines intact was more important and the stallions and mares were shipped out here."  
  
Cat jumped in again, "The horses never went back. Virginia was decimated by the war and the Tidewater Montgomerys lost everything - their home was burned, the stock stolen and the land ruined. Almost all of the Montgomery men wound up in the Confederate army, less than a quarter of them survived. Eli had two sons in the Union army and one in the South. He lost one at Gettysburg. When Lee surrendered, he offered his home to those of the family that were left. He did it for their protection as well as to keep them from starving to death. After Lincoln's assassination, a lot of Northerners blamed the South and wanted them punished."  
  
Mo snorted, "Like they hadn't been already, twenty percent of the population was dead or maimed and the economy was wrecked... " She trailed off and then smiled sheepishly, "And that's probably more than you wanted to know, right?"  
  
Mac laughed, "Well, 'yes' would have sufficed but thanks for the history lesson. Are you this well-versed in American history or is it just the Montgomery family story?"  
  
"They're second-generation Civil War buffs," Liz called from behind, "If you really want to be bored to tears, ask Carol a question about 'The Late Unpleasantness'."  
  
"It's NOT boring!" Mac got the stereo effect as both twins turned and protested at the same time. She couldn't help laughing, being around identical twins was definitely an odd experience.  
  
She decided to change the subject, "How much further is the outdoor course?"  
  
Mo pointed to the right, "Once we get past the yearling pasture, it's off that way about a quarter-mile just beyond that little rise." She looked at Mac with a question of her own, "How long have we been riding?"  
  
"If you mean just the trail ride, we've been out 42 minutes. Otherwise we've been riding for 1 hour and 37 minutes." 'And I'm beginning to feel every moment of it.' Mac thought to herself, shifting a little in the saddle.  
  
"I wish I could tell time like that," Mo said somewhat wistfully.  
  
Cat snorted, "No you don't, you'd never have an excuse for being late again." She looked at Mac, "I have the worst time getting her moving sometimes."  
  
"Me?" Mo was indignant.   
  
Mac slowed Jack a little and fell in beside Liz, watching the twins continue their argument. "They're not getting serious, are they?" she asked Liz quietly.  
  
Stifling a laugh, Liz shook her head, "No, that's just normal twin harassment. They do it all the time." She eyed Mac, "How are you holding up?"  
  
Mac shifted again and smiled ruefully, "I'm not sure I'll ever walk upright again."  
  
Liz nodded sympathetically, "Drop your stirrups, bring your knees up, lean forward and stretch your back." She grinned, "That'll help your back a little, but the only thing that will help your butt is to get it off the horse."  
  
Mac did as directed, groaning a little as her back popped. She pulled herself upright again and looked over at Liz, "Tomorrow, I'm not getting up here without a pillow."  
  
"I hear you," Liz laughed. She pointed ahead, "There they are."  
  
They rode up to the far edge of the field and stopped. Mac looked out over an impressive array of jumps. The Pikes and Stump were at the other end. Stump was holding a flashy chestnut with four white stockings and blaze face. Carol was mounted on a dark dapple gray and was weaving through the field, alternating between a trot and a canter. Mac felt a trifle smug at recalling all the pertinent horse terms. Research paid off. She glanced over at Cat, "Is your mother going to jump any of these?"  
  
Cat nodded, watching the gray smoothly execute a flying change of leads, "Probably in a little bit. She's still warming him up." They watched in silence for a few more minutes until Carol came to a halt in front of her brother and the Pikes. They could see her talking, first shaking and then nodding her head. Bringing the gray around, she cantered up the field, made a sweeping turn and popped over a jump. Circling, she did it again and then changed direction and took the jump from the opposite side. She brought the gray down to a trot and moved to the top of the field. Cat glanced down at Mac, "She's finished her warm-up, now they'll take the course."  
  
Even as she spoke, Carol put the large gray into a canter towards a big, solid-looking jump. "That's called a coop," Cat said helpfully as horse and rider flowed over it with ease. They went over several standard pole jumps and then turned towards a fence that perched on top of what looked like a small cliff. "That's a bank jump," Cat continued her running commentary. "It doesn't look big going in but there's a lot of hang time on the landing. Sometimes it rattles the rider more than the horse."  
  
"Your mom doesn't seem to have any trouble," Mac said. She was suitably impressed with how effortless Carol and the gray made jumping look.  
  
"Mom's an Olympic caliber rider," Cat said proudly. "This isn't an easy course." They watched as she took two jumps that were close together. "That's an in and out," Cat picked up her commentary again. "After the ditch, the only tough jump left on the course is the triple combination." She pointed down the field a little way at three solid fences close together. "It's timing more than anything else. Get in correctly and the rest are a snap."  
  
They watched as Carol slowed a little on the approach and then gave the gray his head. He flowed over the first jump like he had all the others but on the landing, something changed. Mac heard the three women beside her gasp as it looked like Carol pitched forward on the landing. It was enough to throw the gray a little off-balance and he threw in a quick, choppy stride before heaving himself over the second jump. He was too close and took the top rails down with his front legs. At the same time, Carol was starting to come off the side. The landing after the middle fence took her completely off and the gray, unable to gather himself or stop his momentum, crashed into the third jump at the same time Carol did.   
  
Mac watched, frozen. The jump literally looked like it exploded as over half a ton of horse hit it. The force knocked the gray off his feet and then he scrambled up and stood there, pointing a foreleg and trembling. Hearing Mo scream 'Mom!' shook her out of her paralysis and she swung off Jack to join the rush to the jump. The other three soon outdistanced Mac as she hobbled forward, cursing the kinked muscles that didn't let her get much faster than a hurried walk. Fortunately, the more she moved, the easier it became and she arrived at the jump just a few seconds ahead of Stump.  
  
Carol was sprawled forward in the grass. Cat and Mo were removing debris from the ruined jump while Liz was on her hands and knees calling her friend's name anxiously. Stump slid to a halt next to Liz just as Carol's eyes fluttered open. There was a collective sigh of relief and then Stump said with a forced smile, "That was a helluva landing, Flash. Can you move your hands and feet?"  
  
Carol closed her eyes for a long moment and then gave a minute nod. The group watched anxiously as she slowly moved each extremity. Stump's smile looked a little more genuine this time, "Okay, let's get you turned over." Together, he and Liz rolled Carol carefully over on her back. Neither missed the grimace of pain as they did so and Liz began undoing the fastenings on the vest Carol was wearing. Mac looked at it in surprise. From a distance, she had just assumed it was an ordinary, insulated vest but close up it looked more like body armor. She glanced over at the twins who were now crouched shoulder to shoulder on the other side of their mother. Both looked white-faced and scared.  
  
The Pikes arrived at that moment, Mac was the only one to notice their presence. Her eyes narrowed slightly; the adults wore identical expressions of concern but the son, trailing several steps behind, almost looked like he was smirking. When he noticed her attention, he frowned slightly and focused on fallen rider. Jonathan Pike looked at the group and then down at Carol, "Is she alright?"  
  
Stump shook his head, "I don't know yet." He looked at the stricken expressions on his nieces' faces and said reassuringly, "I'm sure she'll be fine." He inclined his head towards the gray, "Would you check Elsinor, please? He took a pretty hard fall, too." Reluctantly, the twins rose and made their way over to horse. Mac realized with a start that he was no longer wearing a saddle. She started scanning the area and finally spotted it not far from Carol, tangled in the smashed remains of the jump.  
  
She focused back on the Pikes when Jonathan pulled a cellphone out. "I'll call 911 for you," he offered.  
  
"No." All eyes turned back to Carol as she lay propped up against her brother. She had her arms wrapped around her middle as she repeated in a breathless but defiant tone, "No. No ambulances. I'll be fine."  
  
Pike stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. His wife, Audrey, looked no less surprised, "But... but... you need to go to the hospital."  
  
Carol took a careful breath and said slowly and distinctly, "No, I don't." Liz rocked back on her heels, gazing intently at her friend and, after a quick glance at Mac, stared silently at Stump.  
  
He stared back and then, with a sigh, looked at the Pikes, "Thank you for your concern but we'll handle it from here. I think it's best to call it a day for now. I'll give you a ring later to reschedule."  
  
Mac could see from their expressions that the Pikes weren't used to being summarily dismissed. However, there was nothing they could do about it and finally left with as much dignity as they could muster.  
  
Stump looked after them regretfully, "There goes that sale. They'll probably be on the next plane back to Chicago." He gazed down at his sister, "Why the hell don't you want to go to the hospital, Flash? You know you've probably broken some ribs." He paused for a moment, watching the retreating Pikes, "And from the way you're acting, I think you rattled your brains as well."  
  
"Is Elsinor alright?" Carol asked, ignoring her brother's statement. She tried to turn herself to see but stopped with a groan.  
  
"Goddammit," Stump exclaimed, "You're out of your mind, you know that? I'LL call 911."  
  
Liz held up a hand, "Just a second, Stump." She looked at Carol, "What's wrong?"  
  
"The saddle," Mac said suddenly, pointing to it in the midst of the debris. Carol nodded in relief.  
  
Stump gave her a startled look, he'd clearly forgotten about the Marine Colonel. Liz hurriedly retrieved it and brought it over for all of them to see. "Son of a bitch," Stump said suddenly. He pulled the girth free and held it out grimly, "This wasn't an accident. It's been cut."  
  
"What?!" Both Liz and Mac chorused together. Mac looked at the three in confusion, "Wouldn't someone have noticed?"  
  
Stump shook his head, "It was cut from the inside and not all the way through. Each jump put a little more stress on it until it finally gave way."  
  
Liz gave Carol a wry look, "Couldn't you have waited 'til after the combination?"  
  
Carol just smiled but Mac noticed she was looking paler. Liz noticed as well, "How about if we take you to the hospital?"  
  
Carol shook her head slowly, "Just get me to the house and call Doc Finley. I don't want to be away from Windswept."  
  
"Dammit, Sis! Doc Finley's not going to be able to x-ray you here! Just go to the damn hospital!" Stump was getting red-faced with frustration.  
  
"That's enough, Jackson. Aggravating Carol isn't helping her either." Liz stood up and looked over to the twins. "Mo!" she called, waving for the young woman to join them. She glanced over at Mac, "Would you bring the horses over, please?" Mac nodded and jogged back to their mounts as Mo joined the group, dropping down next to her mother. Carol smiled at her, "How's Elsinor?"  
  
Mo grinned, relieved to see her mother awake, "His knee on the off side is beginning to swell. He doesn't want to put any weight on the leg but we couldn't feel any breaks." She hesitated for a second and then asked, "How are you?"  
  
Carol grimaced a little, "I've had better landings."  
  
"And worse ones," Liz added dryly. She looked at Mo, "She's probably broken some ribs." Liz threw a pointed look at Stump when he started to open his mouth and he subsided with a scowl. She looked up to see Mac making her way back trailing four horses behind her. Liz gave a quick smile of relief when she saw Gallant on the outside next to Jack. She'd forgotten about the Colonel's inexperience and hadn't warned her not to put the young hunter next to the temperamental Calypso. She waited until Mac drew nearer and then asked the group, "Did anyone besides the Pikes bring a cellphone?"  
  
Mac reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her phone and tossed it to Liz. As she flipped it open and began punching numbers, Carol said warningly, "Liz... "  
  
Liz knelt down and gave her friend's leg a reassuring pat, "I'm calling your dad to come pick you up in the Land Rover. It'll be almost like old times." She turned her attention back to the phone as the other end was picked up, "Hi, Miz Harley, this is Liz ... " She stood back up and moved away, still talking.  
  
Carol watched her and then called, "Colonel?"  
  
"Right here," Mac said, handing reins to Mo and Stump and kneeling down next to Carol.  
  
Inclining her head towards the saddle, Carol said grimly, "You realize what that means?"  
  
Mac nodded with an equally grim expression, "Yeah, someone at Windswept was trying to kill you."  
  
"What??" Mo looked from her mother to Mac in disbelief. "What are you talking about?" She glared at each adult in turn.   
  
Mac looked at Carol and Stump, then stood up with a sigh, "This wasn't an accident. Someone cut the girth on your Mom's saddle halfway through."  
  
Mo stared at her soundlessly, her face growing darker. In icy tones, she said, "You mean someone from Windswept, don't you?"  
  
Warily, Mac nodded, "Probably."  
  
Abruptly, Mo thrust Gallant's reins at her uncle and backed Goose out of the group. Mac skirted around the rest of the horses as the princess flung herself up into the saddle. "Mo," she called, "what are you doing? ... Mo? ... Mo!" She watched as the young woman turned her horse and booted him into a canter and then a gallop toward the main barns. Swearing, Mac hurried over to Liz.  
  
Liz had just disconnected and turned, hearing a horse galloping away. She saw Mo disappearing back towards Windswept and swung back, frowning to Mac, "Now what?"  
  
Mac held out her hand for the phone, "Mo just found out it wasn't an accident. I think she's decided who's to blame." Liz uttered a few choice words of her own as she slapped the phone into the Colonel's hand. Mac hurriedly punched Harm's cell number on the speeddial and stood tapping fingers anxiously while she waited for him to pick up. C'mon... c'mon...  
  
There was a click and then Harm's anxious voice said, "Mac?"  
  
"Yeah," Mac jumped in before he could say more, "Listen, Carol's fall wasn't an accident, someone sabotaged the saddle. Mo's headed towards you with a full head of steam - she thinks she knows who did it. She'll probably go right to the barn. Head her off before she does something stupid, will you?"  
  
"Son of a bitch!" Harm exclaimed, "Okay, I'll catch her. Are you all right? How bad is Carol? When Gus and Harley flew by me, all they said was that she'd fallen. Ruth's on the phone to a doctor right now. Aren't they taking her to a hospital?"  
  
"I'm fine. At the least, she's most likely broken some ribs and she's refusing to go to a hospital... oh crap, I gotta go. Carol's made it to her feet - she's probably worried about Mo. Make sure you stop that kid." Mac ended the connection and quickly made her way back to the group. Carol was upright by virtue of Liz and Stump being on either side of her. Cat had moved closer also, bringing a limping Elsinor with her. All four were talking at once. Stump was, once again, arguing with Carol about the hospital. Carol was snapping at him while trying to talk Liz into going after Mo. Cat was desperately trying to find out what was going on. Mac surveyed them for just a moment and then bellowed 'ENOUGH!' in her best drill instructor voice.  
  
Silence fell. Mac suppressed a smile when she realized she had the horses' attention as well as the people. Hands on her hips, she eyed them all sternly, "I've just spoken with Commander Rabb." She looked at Carol, "Your parents should be here in a just a few minutes. If you think you can stand for that long without tipping over, fine, otherwise plant your butt back on the ground. Harm will intercept Mo before she does something we'll all regret." She tossed her cellphone at a startled Stump and gestured at Elsinor, "Ruth is calling a doctor. Shouldn't you be calling a vet?" Finally, she swung her gaze to Liz and Cat, "You two can bring the rest of the horses in after we get Carol out of here." Her expression turned rueful as she placed a hand on her lower back, "I'll go back in the car with the Montgomerys. I think I've ridden enough today."  
  
She glared at them all again as she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, "Is everyone clear on what they're doing?" There were silent nods all around. Mac turned as the Land Rover came to a halt and Gus and Harley sprang out of the vehicle. They collected Carol and carefully walked her over to the SUV. Mac grabbed the saddle and hurried after them, grateful that they weren't bothering with a lot of questions... yet. As she stowed the saddle in the back, she glanced at the remaining members of the group. Stump now held Elsinor and had the phone to his ear. Cat was holding Cal, Jack and Gallant while Liz went to collect Gypsy Queen. The mare wasn't far from where Stump had left her, happily grazing. Mac shook her head and slid into the backseat next to Carol and Harley. It had been a pleasant day. As soon as the door closed, Gus took off for the house.   
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1515 Local  
  
Harm stared at the phone for a moment after the call ended and then headed out the door. He'd just reached the bottom porch step when he saw Mo arrive at a gallop, flinging herself off in a flying dismount even as Goose slid to a halt. 'Damn!' Harm broke into a run, his long legs covering the distance between the house and the barn quickly. He reached the entryway and stopped, straining his senses. There didn't seem to be anyone in the barn but he knew Mo had to be nearby. She couldn't have disappeared that fast. He quickly and quietly moved up the aisle, glancing into stalls as he went.  
  
The sounds of a scuffle reached him and he hurried to the end of the aisle and turned the corner. Harm was just in time to watch Mo crouch under a roundhouse swing from a large, dark-haired stableboy. She uncoiled with a solid right hook, throwing her weight into the punch. Her fist connected with his eye and he went staggering backwards into a wall. 'Damn,' Harm thought in amazement, 'she's gonna be a Marine.' He stepped in between the two, fending off Mo and freezing the stableboy with a look.  
  
Satisfied he wouldn't move, Harm turned and glared at Mo, "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
Angry and red-faced, Mo jabbed a finger at the stableboy, "Someone cut the girth on my Mom's saddle." She glared at the young man venomously, "And he's going to pay."  
  
"It wasn't me!" the young man declared defiantly. Simultaneously, Harm folded his arms, "How do you know it was him?"  
  
Mo didn't give an inch, "Because I know him and it's the kind of underhanded thing he'd do."  
  
Harm swallowed a sigh and turned back, giving the stableboy a stern look, "Did you?" He didn't really expect anything but a denial. Guilty or not, the young man certainly wasn't a fool. Still, how he reacted to questioning might give some insight.  
  
"What difference would it make?" the stableboy answered sullenly. "Y'all will think I did it no matter what I say." He drew himself up in self righteous indignation, "You people are all alike. Blame the little guy. Just because I don't have money or a fancy education, you think I'm dirt. I've worked like a dog for you people and this is what I get: 'Blame JD, he's one of those good-for-nothing, white trash Cartwrights from down the road.' "  
  
Harm raised an eyebrow. So this was the kid that had aroused Mac's suspicions the other day. She'd candidly confessed it was nothing more than a feeling but Don and Tink had jumped on it anyway. Their check revealed that the Cartwright clan was familiar with incarceration, starting back three generations. There were assaults, drunk and disorderlies, petty theft, drug possession and numerous instances of domestic abuse. None of the Cartwrights had finished high school or held a steady job... until now. JD had managed to stay out of trouble for the last two years and his juvenile records were sealed. He'd been working at Windswept for about a year. He didn't mingle with the other employees, just did his work and left.  
  
Either he was seriously trying to turn over a new leaf or... he was a lot smarter than he looked. Harm continued to stare at JD as he mulled things over. The young man stared back, ignoring a still-steaming Mo. His eye was already swelling and he was the picture of sullen resentment. Finally, Harm waved a hand at JD, "Go home and put some ice on that eye." He turned to an incredulous Mo, "And you, young lady, can apologize to him for jumping to conclusions." Harm quelled her sputtering with a glare, inclining his head towards JD with a clear 'I'm waiting' expression on his face.  
  
Mo clamped her lips shut in silent rebellion. There was no way she was going to apologize to the scum that almost killed her mother.  
  
Harm turned his full attention on her, "Natalya Moira Tamary Dzurick. You will apologize for accusing Mr. Cartwright without the slightest shred of evidence." Behind him, JD's momentary expression of surprise was replaced by a more calculating one. When he looked at Mo, the smirk on his face did nothing to appease her temper.  
  
Mo's hands curled tightly into fists. If she thought there was a chance in hell of getting past Mr. Rabb, she'd wipe that look off Cartwright's face. Tearing her gaze away from JD, she glared at Harm in betrayal, "I will not."  
  
Feeling his own temper slipping, Harm stared back. He spaced out each word, "You...have...no...proof." Damn stubborn teenager! Too caught up in her anger, she was missing what Harm was trying to tell her. Finally, he straightened up and pointed towards the entrance to the barn, "Fine. Then please leave and I'll apologize to Mr. Cartwright." When she still hesitated, he jabbed a finger more forcefully towards the entrance, "Get out. Go find your horse. God only knows where he is right now - you just left him." That got a reaction from Mo. Without another word, she turned and fled.  
  
Harm watched her leave and then turned back to JD, "I'm sorry she went after you, young man. Did you see anyone hanging around near the two horses Mrs. Dzurick was supposed to ride?"  
  
JD stared at the tall man. This was completely unexpected. Putting on a thoughtful look, he said slowly, "No... can't say that I did. I was busy with my own work and not paying much attention. I guess almost anybody could have done it." He put a hand up to his eye and winced, "Can I go now?"  
  
Nodding, Harm watched while the stableboy beat a hasty retreat and then turned back to find Mo. Not seeing her as he walked back through the barn, he headed over to the smaller, private stable. Harm was almost there when the Land Rover pulled up. Immediately, he veered towards the vehicle. Gus and Mac were the first out. Mac stepped aside as Gus reached in to help his daughter out. Harm paused just long enough to rest a hand lightly on Mac's shoulder as he went to see if Gus needed assistance. Mac gave him a smile and headed to the back of vehicle to retrieve the saddle. After lifting the back door open, she stopped for a moment to scan the area. There was no sign of Mo.  
  
Together, Harm and Gus maneuvered Carol out of the Land Rover. She was unable to suppress the groans as she climbed painfully out. Harm and Gus let her rest for a moment, braced up against the side of the SUV. Harley scrambled out as Ruth, Tink and El appeared at the top of the porch steps. Ruth had an arm across the little girl's shoulders and Tink had one hand. El looked frightened, "Mama?"  
  
Carol looked up at her and gave a slight smile, "It's okay, baby, I just did a crash and burn today. I guess I don't bounce like I used to." She glanced from Gus to Harm and said quietly, "Get me into the house before I collapse in front of El, she's frightened enough."  
  
Harm placed a firm hand under Carol's elbow, throwing a look over at Mac as he did so. She was doing a visual sweep and he could guess for whom she was looking. Catching her eye, he nodded towards the smaller barn and then returned his attention to Carol as Gus began moving her forward. It was a long, slow trek to the bedroom. Once they had Carol safely sitting on the bed, Harm and Gus stepped back and let Ruth shoo them away. "Go on," she said, flapping her hands at them. "Go downstairs and wait for the Doctor, he should be here any minute.  
  
They walked out into the hallway to find El waiting anxiously, still clutching Tink's hand. She flung herself at her grandfather as soon as she saw him. Wrapping his arms around her, he began murmuring soothing reassurances. Harm caught Gus' eye and gestured that he'd wait for the Doctor. He headed down the steps with Tink right behind him.  
  
When they reached the porch, Tink cleared his throat, "What exactly happened, sir?"  
  
Harm glanced over at him, "Carol's fall wasn't an accident. Someone cut the girth on her saddle partway through." He returned his gaze to the surrounding area, there was no sign of the Doctor or Mac.  
  
"Any ideas who?" Tink asked.  
  
Shaking his head, Harm grunted sourly, "Mo is positive it was JD Cartwright. She already accused him to his face and gave him a black eye besides." He rubbed the back of his neck, "God save me from angry teenagers... she's probably right but there's no proof. He started in with the 'everybody blames the little guy' defense and I let on that I believed him. There's no way to know if this was just a random incident or if he was recruited by our 'friends' and this is their opening move. I'd rather have him around thinking he's outsmarted us." Harm broke off and straightened abruptly, looking down the driveway, "That's gotta be the Doctor."  
  
*********  
  
Mac watched as Harm and Gus walked Carol up the porch steps and into the house. Closing the back of the Land Rover again, she turned and made her way to the Montgomerys' smaller, private barn. Standing in the entryway, it looked deserted but Harm had indicated that Mo would be here. Wondering what had happened that would keep Carol's daughter away from the house, she began her search. She knew Mo's horse's stablename was Goose but she had no idea what his real name was. Mac wasn't sure if she could recognize him in a stall. Silently, she worked her way up the aisle, looking from side to side. Midway up on the left, a stall door was partially ajar even though there was a horse inside.   
  
Mac walked over and leaned in to take a look. Huddled up against the wall, near the feed tub, Mo was sitting despondently. She had her arms wrapped around her legs and her head resting on her knees. She didn't bother to look in Mac's direction, but merely said, "Go away." 


	11. Part 11

Part 11  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1535 Local  
  
Mac absently scratched the side of Goose's jaw when he came over to see if she had anything good in her pockets. Moving into the stall, she slid down to settle next to Mo, grimacing as she went. Riding was definitely engaging some new muscles. After sitting silently for a few minutes - while Goose checked to see if this new position might provide treats - she glanced over at Mo. "Want to tell me about it?"  
  
Mo didn't bother lifting her head, "No."  
  
Mac fell silent again, squinting upwards as Goose whuffled his nose in her hair. She found that having his head that close didn't alarm her nearly as much as having his feet so close. From this angle, he looked enormous. She cleared her throat somewhat nervously, "Ummm, Mo? I'm not about to get stepped on, am I?"  
  
That caused Mo to turn her head towards Mac. She rolled an eye up towards Goose, "No, he knows where you are - horses usually try to avoid stepping on soft, squishy things. I'd be more... " Her eyes widened briefly and she covered her head with her arms.   
  
Mac stared at Mo in surprise and then swung her head towards Goose. She was just in time to see Goose finish taking a deep breath... and then he snorted. Sputtering, Mac wiped at her face and directed a glare at the teenager beside her. Mo looked torn between guilt and laughter,"... worried about Goose sneezing."   
  
The National Mall  
Washington, D.C.  
1610 Local  
  
He strolled slowly down the Mall, taking in the view with a nonchalance he was far from feeling. They were supposed to call any time now. The group he had contacted knew people in Lexington who, in turn, were familiar with the unsavory types in that neighborhood. It hadn't taken much to push them in the direction he wanted them to go. Merely mentioning a family as rich and as influential as the Montgomerys had been enough for these 'revolutionaries'. 'Were all Americans arrogant?' he mused. He had told their leader what he had in mind and the man had almost immediately come back with his own plan. He shook his head, the problem was that the leader's plan wasn't bad at all. He had examined it from all sides and even if it didn't reach its objective, its failure wouldn't affect further operations. Only somewhat reluctantly, he had given his permission. Now he was waiting to hear the results.  
  
When the phone rang, he answered quickly, angling his course away from other passersby. "Well?"  
  
There was a slight pause, "It didn't go as well as we had hoped." The voice sounded apologetic and defiant.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Sabotaging the saddle worked. The Queen was injured in the fall but she was still conscious. She absolutely refused to go to a hospital, so we couldn't get our ambulance onto the farm. Her brother told our people he'd reschedule their appointment and they had to leave to avoid suspicion." The voice turned hopeful, "That does mean we can try again."  
  
"I don't know if that's wise. What if the bodies of the real people are discovered?"  
  
"They won't be. They're at the bottom of an old, water-filled quarry. Not even the owner goes out there anymore."  
  
"Do they know who sabotaged the saddle?"  
  
The voice chuckled, "They suspect, but this is America, you're innocent until proven guilty. They have no proof. Our young man put on quite a show of resentful indignity. They actually apologized for accusing him. He'll be back there tomorrow watching for another opportunity."  
  
"Do not underestimate these people - they aren't fools," he warned and then paused, deliberating whether to divulge the next bit of information. Deciding in the affirmative, he said quietly, "Your plan did have one unexpected benefit - Gheorghe will be traveling to Kentucky tomorrow evening to see his wife."  
  
The silence that greeted that revelation gave him hope that this group was not as amateurish as he had originally feared. The voice came back with a cautious inquiry, "Will you be coming as well?"  
  
"Yes, but not with the King. He is only taking Zali with him. Officially, I will be taking a brief vacation. I have some arrangements to see to here and then I will come out as well. This could play into our hands perfectly if we can assemble the assets quickly enough. I will contact you again tomorrow." He ended the connection and continued walking, deep in thought. Americans were so mercenary. Offer them enough money and they would murder their own mother. Still, doing what he hoped to accomplish would require numbers and he wouldn't have to trust them for long. As soon as the deed was done, he would be on his way out of the country leaving the Americans - to use their own expression - holding the bag. Having his original plan of picking off the defenders usurped was unimportant when compared to the success of the mission. Their plan lacked finesse but would be brutally efficient. He would miss the thrill of properly terrorizing his prey; however, sacrifices were sometimes necessary.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1630 Local  
  
Harm walked out on the porch to find Mac perched on the railing with her back against the post, gazing off into the distance. She glanced back when she heard the door and then gave him a smile, "Everything down to a dull roar in there?"  
  
He walked over and settled himself against the rail, "Almost. Doctor Finley isn't very happy about Carol's decision to remain at Windswept."  
  
Mac gave a wry smile, "That would make it the Queen vs. all the rest of us... I think we're outnumbered."  
  
Harm snorted, "Isn't that the truth."  
  
"Seriously, though, I can understand her concern. What if the whole point of this was to isolate her from her children? It's fairly obvious that Carol was the target. No one else was going to ride those horses." Mac paused for a moment, "Mo's still pretty mad at you."  
  
Sighing, Harm said, "No surprise there. Not only wouldn't I let her pummel the Cartwright kid, I asked her to apologize."  
  
"So she said."  
  
"Well, at least she's talking to you. She wouldn't even look at me when she came in."  
  
Mac absently scrubbed at her face and then ran a hand through her still-damp hair. One of the first things she'd done on reaching the house, was grab a shower. "Mo's horse, Goose, provided the ice-breaker, it definitely lightened the mood."  
  
He looked at her skeptically, "What did he do? Start telling jokes?" Harm didn't buy into the My-Horse-Thinks-Like-A-Human claims, attributing the stories to suggestive, horse-crazy minds.  
  
Mac looked somewhat rueful, "I suppose by horse standards, it could be considered a joke. He put his nose in my face and sneezed. Horses have really BIG noses." She saw the widening grin on Harm's face and smiled, "It gets better. Mo had been sitting in Goose's stall, so I sat down next to her. Goose came over to investigate and I asked her if I should worry about being stepped on. She finally looked at me and then glanced at him and told me it wasn't being stepped on that I should worry about. Then she covered her head. I looked at her and then at Goose and got it with both barrels. His timing was perfect."  
  
Harm laughed, "So you're saying you've had two showers today?"  
  
Mac chuckled, "Three, actually, if you count this morning after my run. If this keeps up, I'm going to run the Montgomerys' well dry." She sobered a bit, "Mo thinks you betrayed her by siding with Cartwright."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Harm gave her a look, "What would you have done? She accused the guy with no proof." He shook his head, "I happen to think she's right, but I'd rather have the snake where I can see him and I'm hoping he'll get cocky."  
  
"You're preaching to the choir, Rabb," Mac said with a grin. "I tried explaining all that but she's too ticked. All she sees is that we're letting someone who hurt her mother hang around in hopes of catching him when he takes his next shot." She returned to her original topic, "What did the doctor say about Carol?"  
  
"Definitely broken ribs on her right side, a wrenched shoulder and a mild sprain of the right wrist. Apparently it could have been a lot worse if she hadn't been wearing the protective vest and helmet."  
  
Mac nodded thoughtfully, "I noticed the vest. I thought it was strange that she was wearing body armor."  
  
"According to Gus, it's not exactly body armor. It's not made to stop bullets or anything. It's supposed to dissipate the force if a rider crashes into a fence or gets stepped on by their horse. It's required for Event riders and Gus says Carol's just gotten used to wearing it whenever she jumps - kinda like wearing a seatbelt." Harm looked down at his feet, "In spite of that, the Doc is worried that there could be internal bleeding. He wants her checked every hour." He chuckled suddenly, "Finley's a fierce old guy. He told Carol that at the slightest sign of worsening, he'd take her mind off her ribs by giving her a swift kick in the six. Then he'd haul her sorry ass into whatever hospital would be crazy enough to take her."  
  
Mac raised an eyebrow, "How did that go over?"   
  
"She suggested that he follow their horse vet, Doc Morris, around and try to learn his bedside manner. It went on like that for a while until the painkillers kicked in. Apparently, Finley's been their doctor for decades - he's had lots of practice putting various Montgomerys back together again." Harm shook his head and then eyed Mac with concern, "I had no idea it could be that dangerous. Maybe you should forgo the riding lessons, the last thing you need is to fall off."  
  
Mac gave him a steady look, "Harm, there's a world of difference between riding Jack and jumping an Olympic-caliber course. Besides, it's the only way to keep tabs on the kids - they're riding all the time."  
  
Harm scowled a little, "What about Tyler? He already knows how to ride."  
  
"Harm, that's not fair to Nicky. He's surrounded by his sisters all the time. Let Tyler do his male-bonding thing - even Carol approves, and you know how careful she is with her kids. I feel a little better knowing he and Nick are doing a perimeter patrol. I'd just as soon have them out there, Pick will keep the prince safe." Mac had every confidence in the young lieutenant.  
  
"Fine," Harm grumbled, "Just be careful. I am not explaining any more hospital visits to the Admiral."  
  
Mac grinned and then her attention was drawn beyond Harm, "Speak of the devil, here's Tyler and Nicky now." She stood up and glanced over at Harm, "You didn't call Pick and let him know what happened, did you?"  
  
Harm shook his head, a little abashed, "I forgot."  
  
Mac smiled slightly, "Yeah, me too. Well, I'd better get down there and break the news to them."  
  
"Okay," Harm nodded, "I think I'll head over to the barn and talk to Liz and Jackson - let them know what's going on. Tink's trying to get in touch with Don about our latest development."  
  
"All right," Mac said as she headed down the steps to intercept the two riders. She turned back when she reached the bottom, "Oh, and let me know how Elsinor is doing, will you?"  
  
Harm rolled his eyes and waved a hand as he strode down the steps himself. Mac was definitely staking a claim in the horse-crazy camp.  
  
*******  
  
Pick laughed and shook his head at Nicky's story, "If I'd done that, my older sisters would have skinned me alive." He looked up as he spoke, they were just approaching the main complex. His smile died a little when he saw the Colonel walking down to meet them, she didn't usually do that. Tyler glanced over at Nicky who was looking up towards the barn with a puzzled expression. He swung his gaze up that way but didn't see anything other than a maroon pick-up truck. He looked back at Nick, "What's the matter?"  
  
Nicky pointed, "That's Doc Morris' rig, he's my grandparents' vet. Nobody said anything about a visit scheduled today, I wonder what's going on?"  
  
Pick nodded towards the Colonel who was almost to them, "I imagine we're about to find out." He pulled Brazos, a stocky, overo Paint horse, to a halt beside Mac. "Afternoon, ma'am," he said with a smile, "what's going on at the barn? Nicky says that's the vet."  
  
Mac gave the two young men a brief smile and then told them about the day's events. Five minutes later, Nicky was pelting towards the house at full speed. Mac watched him go and then turned back to Pick, "I suppose it's too much to hope that you might have seen anything out of the ordinary while you were making your rounds."  
  
Pick shook his head, "No ma'am, I'd have let the Commander know right away. It's been pretty quiet." He dismounted and together they headed back to the barn, leading the horses.  
  
Mac glanced over at Tyler, "Do you have a sidearm with you?"  
  
Pick nodded, "It's in the saddlebag on the left. I guess I'll start wearing it. I can keep it covered with a light jacket." He sighed a little, "It's starting, isn't it, ma'am?"  
  
Mac nodded grimly, "Looks that way."  
  
"Do you want to keep Nick closer to home? We don't have to ride out so far."  
  
"No, you two might actually be the safest. You never go the same way twice, do you?" Knowing Pick's aptitude for disappearing, Mac was hoping he could be their ace in the hole.  
  
"Never, ma'am." Pick paused for a second, considering, and then offered, "If you don't think it's too late, I could start caching weapons. It might help to be able to lay hands on some firepower away from the house and barns."  
  
Mac thought it over, "That might not be a bad idea. Can you do it without being seen?" She saw the look on Pick's face and laughed, "Excuse me, I don't know what I was thinking. By all means, go ahead. See what Gus can spare - it looks like he's got quite a collection."  
  
"Yes, ma'am!"  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
2230 Local  
  
Harm tapped and poked his head into Mac's room. He swallowed his 'Hello' when he saw Mac hold up a hand. She was listening intently on the phone. He made his way over to her bed and settled down just in time to hear her say, "Okay. Thanks, Clay." Harm looked at the expression on her face and said simply, "What's wrong?"  
  
Mac looked at him for a moment and then said, "Gheorghe will be here tomorrow night."  
  
Harm stared at her, "Oh hell."  
  
"I'll say," Mac replied. "Doesn't give us much time to prepare, does it?"  
  
"No... did Clay have anything for us?" Harm's head was spinning. They were still in the dark over who was behind all this but it would be a safe bet with Gheorghe on the scene, something was bound to happen.  
  
"Maybe," Mac frowned, remembering what Clay had said. "Several people in the Embassy have booked flights to Finland."  
  
"So? Maybe they're taking a vacation. Who was it?" As far as Harm was concerned, the more of them who left the country, the better.  
  
"Tenya Prouse, the Queen's First Maid, Dr. Magourik and Lucian Valter, Gheorghe's batman. They booked flights for the day after tomorrow." Aside from the timing, Mac couldn't see much of a connection either.  
  
"Gheorghe won't be here until 1900 tomorrow. Unless our unidentified bad guys can pull off a night op, that leaves the day after tomorrow as the earliest they can stage an attack. I don't see how these people being on flights out of the country is relevant. They're foreign nationals with diplomatic immunity, we couldn't touch them regardless of what we might suspect." Harm sat silently, his brow furrowed in thought.  
  
"I think we need to set up a perimeter guard after Gheorghe gets here, do you think Don can get us night vision equipment?" Mac moved towards the more practical aspects. "Finding out that these guys can mount a night op isn't something I want to discover firsthand." She sat for a minute, frowning slightly, "Do you think they'd try something tonight? Take over the place and be waiting for Gheorghe when he gets here?"  
  
"No," Harm answered slowly. "I don't think so... It would be the time factor more than anything else. They'd have to hold everyone and still give the appearance of normalcy until Gheorghe arrives. There's too much traffic in and out of this place. Staff, clients, Stump and Moon's families, their friends... it would be a logistic nightmare trying to contain all that. I think they'll try to hit fast and hard. I'm betting they'll plan to take less than an hour, all told. Any longer and I think they'd have trouble getting away cleanly."  
  
"Well, we probably won't have to worry about them going the martyr route. JD Cartwright points to the use of local talent. They'll be in it for money, not ideology," Mac said thoughtfully.  
  
Harm grinned, "One small blessing. That might also point to them falling out at any type of firm resistance. They'll want to be alive to spend their loot."  
  
Mac looked a little more sober, "The downside to that is a lack of discipline. It could get out of control in a hurry if things don't go smoothly for them."  
  
Harm quirked an eyebrow, "So we should stop them but not make them mad?" He ducked away as Mac aimed a swing at him.  
  
She folded her arms and leaned back against the headboard, "Is that your way of saying we'll worry about this in the morning?"   
  
He grinned and moved up alongside of her, "I can think of better ways to spend the evening... your Majesty."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
0815 Local  
  
Harm glanced up when the door to the family room opened and then hastily stood. Carol stood in the doorway, flanked by the twins with Nicky, El, Ruth, Hank and Elsa June bringing up the rear. He glanced over to see Mac on her feet as well. She was gesturing to Tyler to bring a chair forward for Carol. Harm sighed slightly in exasperation. This had been a disagreement he'd already had with Mac this morning. They were having a council of war. He wanted to confine it to the guardians and bring Carol and the twins up to speed later. He would leave it up to the Montgomerys about who else they told. Mac was of the opinion that the more people who knew the better, which meant dropping the facade of royal relative. Obviously, Carol was on the same wavelength as his Marine. Not surprising, they were remarkably similar. He rubbed his jaw absently as Carol and her entourage came into the room; Gheorghe couldn't get here soon enough. It wasn't fair that he had to deal with two mulishly stubborn women.  
  
Harm waited for Carol to be seated and everyone else to re-settle. The children stayed clustered around their mother, Bell and Tyler had surrendered their seats to Ruth and Elsa June. He cleared his throat and swept his gaze around the room, resting for a moment on Ruth, Hank, Elsa June and the children. "Is everyone aware that Gheorghe is arriving here around 1900... 7 pm?" He waited for the expected nods and then said, "We aren't going to have a lot of time to prepare."  
  
Harm looked over at Carol and nodded towards the latest additions to the meeting, "How much did you tell them?" If nothing else, he still wasn't sure of the wisdom of including El in this discussion.  
  
Carol regarded him steadily, "Everything, Commander, this is going to affect them all."  
  
Mac spoke up, "Good, then we can get right to business." She looked over at Don and Tink, "I talked with Clayton Webb this morning and his sources have come across the name 'God's Hammer'. See what you can find out about them." She focused on Don, "Can we expect any help from the Bureau?"  
  
Don looked chagrined, "Right now, no, but if this 'God's Hammer' pans out, I'll be able to show a credible threat. That should get a team mobilized."  
  
Mac arched an eyebrow and smiled, "I trust you won't reveal your source is CIA?"  
  
Don grinned, "Good agents always protect their sources, ma'am."  
  
Harm jumped in again, "The Colonel and I believe that the soonest these people can try anything will be tomorrow. However, just in case they have the resources to mount a night op, we'll be setting up a perimeter guard." He looked over at Don, "We'd be more effective with night vision equipment. Could you lay your hands on some?" The agent looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded.   
  
"Good," Harm continued, "The problems we face are: A. We don't know when these people will strike. We're assuming that with the Dzurick family reunited, they'll wish to take advantage of it. However, if we're too obvious in our defense - they will, more than likely, fade into the woodwork to wait for another opportunity. So, for all outward appearances, it will have to be business as usual."  
  
Mac spoke next, "The next problem is that we don't know how many we will be facing. Logic dictates that it could be sizable. There are roughly thirty... " She looked at Gus for confirmation and saw him nod, "... thirty people on Windswept at any given time. I seriously doubt that they would just start killing indiscriminately; they'll probably round up who they can and confine them under guard." She looked pointedly at Carol, "They want you and Gheorghe and the children. What they are attempting only works if they get all of you. That's not going to happen. No more than three of you should be together at one time."   
  
Cat raised a hand, "What about at night?" She glanced around, "I mean, we're all sleeping in the same house."  
  
Harm nodded, "Good question, however, we have plans for that, too."  
  
Mac took over, "Again, we don't know if they have the resources to mount a night op. We will be patrolling throughout the night. Strategically speaking, it's not as viable a plan for them. It'll be fairly obvious that anyone we see moving after dark will be the opposition. These people are not that highly trained - getting to the house unseen will be a major obstacle."  
  
"What if they just fire a missile at the house from far away and blow the whole thing up?" Nicky was more excited than scared. This was just like the movies!  
  
Harm grinned, "It's a little more difficult than that and besides, how will they know you and your family are in the house? We might have split all of you up among your uncles' houses or even put you in the barn. They won't be able to hang around after firing the missile, so they wouldn't be able to confirm that they were successful."  
  
Mac continued, "Their best bet will be to try to infiltrate during the day while the daily traffic is moving in and out of this place. We just don't know if they'll move right away or if they'll wait, hoping we'll get careless. So, we keep our eyes open and act like everything's normal. Does everyone have a cell phone?" She took in the assorted affirmatives, "Good, Harm and I will give you our cell numbers to put on your speed dial. You see anything you're not sure about, call one of us."  
  
Nicky spoke up again, "So you're not putting us under some sort of house arrest? We can go outside?  
  
Mac smiled at Nicky, "Correct - which means that you can keep riding with Pick. You and he will be our roving patrol." She pointed a finger at the now-grinning young man, "You will listen to the Lieutenant and do whatever he tells you, without question, is that clear?"  
  
"Yes ma'am!" Nicky flashed a happy look at Tyler who smiled in return.  
  
"Everyone else will continue about their normal business and keep their eyes open for anything unusual or out-of-place," Harm said. "I know it's hard, but try not to worry. We're going to stop these people." He looked around the room, "Any questions?"  
  
Harley put up a hand, "It's not a question. I got off the phone with the Pikes just before we met. They want to come out again today to continue looking at Event prospects. I told them yes."  
  
Harm frowned and glanced at Mac who shrugged, "Well, that would fall under business as usual. Keep an eye on them and we'll do the same. Anyone else have anything to add?" He saw that Mo still wasn't looking at him, he was hoping she'd be over it by now. Swallowing a sigh, he said, "Okay, I guess that's it. Everyone, keep alert." He watched as most of the group filed out. Tink and Don made a beeline for Gus' study to begin their search on 'God's Hammer'. Gus, Harley, Ruth, Hank and Elsa June left en masse, Ruth was either plying the Montgomerys with questions or berating them for keeping her in the dark, it was hard to tell. Nicky, Tyler and Stump headed out, no doubt back to the barn. Stump would inform his brother, Moon, of the latest developments. Carol's oldest brother had been in the middle of a conference call and couldn't get away.  
  
That left Carol, El, the twins and Mac. Carol glanced back at her daughters, "Why don't you catch up with Uncle Jack and go with him to the barn? You can give him a hand getting ready for the Pikes."  
  
Mo looked rebellious at the suggestion. Cat looked quickly from her mother to the JAG officers and back again, "Okay, Mom." She looked at her sisters, giving her twin a second, harder look when it looked like Mo was going to refuse. El glanced between her older sisters and decided to side with Cat, adding her own glare at Mo. The younger twin stared back for a long moment before spinning on her heel and stomping out of the room. Cat flashed an apologetic look at the adults and hurried off after her sister with El in tow.  
  
Carol watched them leave and then turned back to Harm and Mac with a sigh, "Sorry about that. Mo tends to be more volatile and she absolutely refuses to understand why you won't let her draw and quarter JD Cartwright. Part of it is that she's terrified and it's easier being angry with you than having to deal with the concept of someone trying to kill all of us."  
  
"That's okay, Carol, I can live with it if it helps her get through the day," Harm said. "Cat seems to be handling it."  
  
Carol looked at the JAG officers somewhat sadly, "That's because she's the heir to the throne in a region where political assassination is commonplace. She's known that she's as much of a target as her father or myself for a number of years now." She shrugged and then winced, "You learn to deal with it."  
  
"How are you feeling this morning?" Mac asked, eyeing the Queen critically.  
  
Carol smiled slightly, "Like I got caught between a wrecking ball and the building." She glanced at her watch, "Doc Finley will be here in about an hour to administer his daily harangue. If you'll give me a hand in a little bit, I hope to take it lying down." She motioned Harm to stay put when he started to rise. "Not yet, Commander." Carefully shifting, she leaned forward a little, "Exactly what are our chances of getting through this?"  
  
Mac glanced at Harm and then back at Carol, "That's hard to say."  
  
Carol shook her head impatiently, "No, it's not. Just say it."  
  
Mac raised her hands, "Carol, a lot of this depends on whether these guys turn out to be a bunch of thugs. Will we get through this unscathed? Probably not, but we will get through." She glanced back at Harm again, "We've talked to the sheriff's department, explained the situation and set up a panic button of sorts. Call 911 and tell them Windswept and they'll mobilize a tactical response unit. Hopefully, we'll turn up more information on 'God's Hammer' and the Feds will get involved. If we can get them onto Windswept without tipping our hand, it'll definitely put the odds in our favor."  
  
Carol looked from one to the other, "There's a lot of ifs in there. IF these guys aren't sociopaths; IF the sheriff's department can get here in time; IF the Feds get involved... and what about JD Cartwright?  
  
Harm ran a hand through his hair, "We keep an eye on him, see if he contacts anyone. Legally, we can't touch him. Stump could fire the kid but we think it might be safer knowing where he is at all times. At any rate, we have a breathing space until your husband arrives."  
  
Mac stood up and moved towards Carol, "Okay, time for you to get back to bed. The Doc will be here soon and I, for one, have no intention of getting caught in that man's line of fire." Harm joined her and together they walked Carol back to her room and got her settled in bed.   
  
Once back in the hallway, they headed for their rooms. Harm waited in the doorway, while Mac unzipped a small case and pulled out a 9mm pistol in a skeleton holster. He watched while she inserted a clip and checked the chamber to make sure it was clear. Tucking it into her waistband, Mac slid an extra clip into her pants pocket and then partially closed her light jacket. She looked at Harm, "I guess I'll go keep an eye on the girls. I'll do what I can with Mo."  
  
She headed out of the room and stopped at the doorway. Harm hadn't moved yet. "What?"  
  
Harm bent forward and kissed her softly on the forehead, "Be careful. No flying attempts today, please."  
  
Mac leaned into him and smiled impishly, "Ahhh, but that's part of the thrill of riding. You feel like you're flying." She pulled back and tugged at his arm, "C'mon Navy, time's a-wastin'. What are you going to do?"  
  
He smiled as they made their way down the stairs, "Aside from keeping out of Doc Finley's way? I think I'll check in with Bell and our favorite Fibbie, see if I can't push the reinforcement plan along." They parted at the bottom of the steps and then Harm jumped when he received a swat on the six. Spinning around, he saw that Mac was already out of reach and laughing lightly. He watched as she tossed a 'Semper Fi' over her shoulder and disappeared out the door. Shaking his head, Harm turned back towards the study and the mundane task of keeping everyone alive. 


	12. Part 12

Part 12  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
2300 Local  
  
Harm stopped by the corner of the house and scanned the grounds. Don had come through in a big way for them. He'd procured night vision goggles and binoculars, as well as individual comm units. The main house was the focal point, they were working in pairs. Harm had limited the roster to those people who were weapon-qualified. That gave them six people: Harm and Mac, Bell and Tyler, Don and Gus. They were rotating every two hours, he and Mac had the 2200 to 2400 and the 0500 to 0700 shifts. Mac was currently working the outer circle about 500 yards away, having successfully argued that A. she had more training at recon than he had, and B. she was smaller and thus was harder to spot.  
  
Finishing his scan, Harm quietly made his way to the next point. He was more than grateful for the wide open spaces surrounding the old home, otherwise two people couldn't have hoped to cover the area. They would all be tired tomorrow but not much the worse for wear. Life as a combat pilot had taught him how to grab sleep in short bursts and he was well aware of how little sleep Mac needed. Don and Tinker also seemed to thrive on less sleep. Not so for Tyler and Gus. Those two seemed to to be vying with each other on who could be the most grumpy. Harm didn't give the bad guys very good odds if they made the mistake of attacking when either one was on patrol.   
  
He smiled to himself as he reached his next position and began scanning again. All he had to deal with was an exuberant jarhead. Mac was in her element, sneaking through the underbrush and flitting across the open areas, on the prowl for the enemy. For his own selfish reasons, he was glad women weren't allowed in combat. He had little doubt that Mac would shift to being a line officer in a New York minute. It was a mindset that seemed to pervade the entire Corps, right down to the lowliest clerk - you always rode to the sounds of guns, not away. Seeing his area clear, he clicked on his mike and said quietly, "Mac?"   
  
There was a light crackling and then an equally quiet, "Yeah?"  
  
"What's the word?" Harm moved towards the east side of the house.  
  
"All clear, unless they're disguising themselves as raccoons."  
  
Harm could hear the smile in her voice, he grinned as he began his next visual sweep, "Are they armed?"  
  
"Yes, and legged," came the dry response. "Where are you?"  
  
"East side. You?"  
  
"About to enter the woods to the south."  
  
"Careful, Jarhead."  
  
"Always, Squid." He heard the mike click off and checked his watch, fifty minutes to go. Harm moved stealthily along to his next observation point.  
  
*******  
  
Mac smiled to herself and took one more quick look around before plunging into the woods. It was slow going as she cautiously placed each foot amid the dead leaves, trying for a minimum of rustling and crackling. Pausing often near trees, she carefully swept the area. The moon was only half full and she was grateful for that. It cast almost enough light to make her think about discarding the goggles. A full moon would have been bright enough to seem like day. Crossing the open areas without being seen would have been an absolute pain. So far the night had been uneventful and she fervently hoped it would remain so.  
  
Gheorghe had arrived at Windswept at 1930 with Marius in tow. As before the state troopers provided an escort up to the property entrance. It had been all they could do to confine the kids to the house, letting them greet their father outside would have presented too tempting a target. Instead, the children had swarmed Gheorghe as soon as he made it indoors. The surge of envy she felt surprised her; it was a reaction she quickly stifled when she became aware of Harm's warm presence behind her. Either she hadn't been fast enough or Harm had anticipated her feelings because she felt his hand rubbing reassuring circles on her back...  
  
Mac shook her head and chided herself for letting her attention wander. After badgering Harm to let her take the outer perimeter, having someone slip by would not only be dangerous but humiliating. She backtracked a few steps and scanned the area again. Reassured that it was still clear, she continued her patrol. Forty-two minutes to go.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
0710 Local  
  
Sitting on the porch steps, Harm waited for Mac to make her way in. They'd gone the night without incident. The relief was tempered by an increase in tension. It was the daylight hours that would truly be dangerous. He scrubbed at the light growth of whiskers, it was a toss-up on which he wanted more: coffee or a shower. When Mac walked out from between the barns, he smiled and raised a hand in greeting. He stood as she approached, his eyes scanning her appearance. She looked tired, not surprising since she'd covered a good deal more distance than he had.  
  
"Hey," he said, by way of greeting when she was close enough. Mac smiled back at him, letting him tuck a hand under her elbow as they slowly climbed the steps. "Shower or breakfast first?" Harm asked as they entered the house.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Mac grinned, "Planning on joining me either way?"  
  
Harm chuckled and then yawned, "Ask me that again when we're back in D.C." They stopped in the entryway and he looked down at her, "Which first?"  
  
Mac glanced at herself and grimaced, "Shower. Breakfast will be more appetizing that way." They started up the steps and met Marius on his way down. He was dressed in jogging shorts and a sweatshirt. Mac smiled at him, "Morning, Marius." Harm nodded to the Bacovian security chief, feeling slightly territorial. He hadn't missed Mac's admiring glance at Zali as he came down the stairs.  
  
"Colonel, Commander," Marius smiled, showing even, white teeth; "I see we've made it through the night." He glanced back up the steps, "The King and Queen are still asleep, so I thought it would be a good time for a run." He looked over at Harm, "I could have taken a shift last night."   
  
Harm waved a hand at him, letting the other casually rest on Mac's shoulder, "We didn't have anyone to pair you with and it was better to have someone trained still inside the house. We're going to get cleaned up and then eat breakfast. Come find us after your run, we'll be meeting with everyone to go over the day's plan."  
  
Marius nodded, smiling inwardly at the possessive gesture. Even though he was no threat to their relationship, he could understand Harm's feelings. He did the same thing when he was around Liz. With a wave of his hand, he headed down the steps and out the door. Mac watched him leave and then looked back at Harm, "Okay, you can relax now."  
  
"What?" Harm said a little defensively as they continued up the stairs. Mac just shook her head silently. When they reached the hallway, he said, "Hey, I saw you looking at Zali's legs."  
  
Mac stopped and turned around, folding her arms, "Yes I did and they were truly a sight to behold. Are you telling me you don't look when a beautiful woman walks by?"  
  
"That's different," Harm defended himself, "I'm not on a first-name basis with them."  
  
Mac rolled her eyes, "Harm, Marius is a nice guy who happens to be involved with Liz." She stepped in a little closer, "I like Marius but I love you, learn to deal with it, okay?" She stretched up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his nose, then turned and strode up the hallway to her room.  
  
Harm stood stock-still for a moment and then hurried after her.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
0815 Local  
  
Taking a final sip of his coffee, Harm glanced over at Mac. She nodded and looked at the rest of the people in the Gus' study. This time they confined the meeting to the core group of defenders. Marius was there, he would brief Gheorghe and Carol on what was going on. Tink, Gus, Tyler and Don filled out the participants. Mac looked at the FBI agent and Bell, "So what did you find out about 'God's Hammer'?"  
  
Tinker looked over at Don who gestured for him to go ahead, "Well, ma'am, I'm afraid it wasn't much. They're not advertising themselves on the web. Most of what we've found is from mentions on other sites. We can't tell if they're ultra-exclusive, rampantly paranoid or a just red herring for law enforcement officials."  
  
"Damn," Mac said, sharing a look with Harm, "I assume that means the Bureau won't be willing to mobilize a team?"   
  
Don shook his head, "I've argued it every which way to Sunday. With the increased terror alerts around the country, they just can't afford to commit manpower on unsubstantiated threats. I'm sorry."  
  
"So it's just us," Harm said, "We'll just have to be that much more vigilant." He looked over at Marius, "How long is Gheorghe staying?"  
  
Zali shrugged, "It's open-ended. When His Majesty heard about the Queen, he cancelled everything. I would prefer he stay in Washington, it's easier to defend him there, but he worries about his family. He might go back tomorrow or he might wait until next week."  
  
"Tell him the sooner the better," Harm said, "There's not enough of us to keep going night and day. It's going to compromise our protection unless we can somehow pull in more reinforcements."  
  
"Can't we get the state police?" Gus demanded. "This seems a damn sight more important than handing out speeding tickets."  
  
"They're facing the same problems as the Bureau," Don answered. "These higher alerts cause them to spread themselves out and there's not enough troopers to go around."  
  
"So we just sit here and let these bastards call the shots?" Gus was getting red-faced with frustration.  
  
"Yes." Mac was blunt. "We'll do what we can to ruin their plans, but all we can do is react if and when they decide to move."  
  
"Can we force their hand?" Tyler asked.  
  
"Possibly... " Harm said slowly. He turned and looked at Marius, "What if Gheorghe decided to go back to D.C. tonight?"  
  
Marius spread his hands, "I don't think he'd wish to return so quickly."  
  
Mac looked at Harm and then smiled at Marius, "It doesn't have to be true. We only need to make sure that JD Cartwright believes that it's true."  
  
Gus rubbed his jaw, "I could have Harley say something to Stump about the kids being upset with Gheorghe leaving so quickly." He scowled, "Are you sure you want to provoke these jackasses? We still won't know exactly when they'll hit or if there'll be enough of us to handle it."  
  
"But we'll narrow the window." Harm looked around the room, "I think it's worth the risk. With these night patrols, our effectiveness is going to get worse day by day. Are we agreed?" He saw everyone nod. "Good," Harm turned to Gus again, "Now that that's settled, what's on the agenda for Windswept today?"  
  
Gus leaned back, "Well, we're shipping two hunter-jumpers up to central Indiana. One of Stump's college interns and a groom will make the trip. They're leaving at 9:30. Hank's taking Elsa June into Lexington for food shopping, they'll probably leave right after lunch. We're expecting our weekly feed delivery - they usually show up around 1:00 and the Pikes have narrowed it down to one horse, they want one final look today. They should be here around 3:00. Oh, and Doc Finley's going to stop by sometime today, he wasn't sure when."  
  
"Okay," Harm said as he looked over at Tyler, "You keep patrolling with Nicky and keep your cell phone handy." Tyler nodded. Harm looked at Don and Tink, and pointing at Don, said, "Why don't you stick with Harley today? And Tinker? Stay with El." The two men nodded in agreement.  
  
"I'll stay with the twins," Mac said, "and Marius, I assume, will stay by Gheorghe and Carol." She saw Zali give a confirming nod and then she looked at Harm, "Where will you be?"  
  
"Everywhere," Harm said wryly. He stood up and reached back to give Mac a hand, "All right, people, let's get to it. Don't forget - 911 and 'Windswept' will get us back-up in a hurry."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1125 Local  
  
JD Cartwright slowly stood and wadded up the bag that had contained his lunch. He'd been perched on a bench just outside the barn office. With the windows open, he could hear inside and from his vantage point, he could see the house and the indoor arena. Tossing the bag into a trash container, he grabbed a broom and ambled up the aisle towards the back of the barn. Checking to make sure he was alone, he pulled out a small cellphone and dialed a number.  
  
After one ring, he heard, "Yes?"  
  
JD glanced around again and then said quietly, "I just heard Mr. Montgomery tell his wife that Gheorghe is going back to D.C. tonight. He said the kids were whining about it." He listened intently for a moment, "Well, Nicky and that other guy are already out riding but they usually come back in around 3:30 or 4:00. I haven't seen anyone else, I guess they're still in the house." There was another pause, "The twins didn't ride this morning, that usually means they ride after lunch. They're still trying to teach that cousin how to ride so they should stay in the indoor ring." He listened again, "Yes, I understand! I'm not an idiot!" He glanced around and lowered his voice, "I'll let it ring twice. Okay... yeah, fine." Ending the connection, JD started sweeping the aisle.  
  
Louisville International Airport  
Louisville, Kentucky  
1405 Local  
  
Getting into his rental car, he pulled out onto the beltway and headed for Interstate 64. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he debated again the wisdom of coming out here. They would be executing their plan today, the call he'd gotten earlier had confirmed the need to expedite this matter. There was truly no reason for his presence but the prospect of showing Gheorghe and the insufferable Zali just how badly they had underestimated him was irresistible. When he saw the sign stating that the I-64 exit was 5 miles away, he glanced down at the dashboard clock. Assuming there were no delays, he would reach the Montgomery farm just as his people were finishing securing the place.  
  
They'd gone over the plan step by step and he felt sure it stood a good chance of succeeding. There were a few random factors, the most notable was the fact that Nicolas and one of the Americans were normally away from the complex during the day. He'd figured that out but a lot depended on the fire discipline of his group. Surprise, speed and numbers would be the key. Overwhelm the defenders quickly and quietly and the last piece of the prize would blindly come to them. He glanced down at the cell phone on the seat beside him, debating whether or not to call. Finally, he decided against it. The leader of this group had proved to be competent as well as devious. Micro-managing now would have a desultory effect. He looked at the dashboard clock again and smiled, things were already in motion.  
  
*******  
  
Mac and Cat walked into the Montgomerys' private barn. Mac hadn't said anything on the walk over but once inside the barn, she looked over at Cat, "Mo didn't want to ride today?"  
  
Cat shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable, "She decided she needed to talk to Mom and Dad - this stuff is really eating at her."  
  
"What about you?" Mac stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and leaned against the wall.  
  
Cat shrugged again, "It almost seems surreal. I mean, I know, intellectually, that there are political reasons behind all this and you could almost say it's not personal; but emotionally, I think I'm about ready to scream." She looked down at the floor, "I wish I could be more like you. I just want to run and hide like a little kid until Mom and Dad say it's okay to come out."  
  
Mac was silent for a moment. This wasn't the first time someone had told her they admired her but her initial reaction was always surprised disbelief tempered by a nagging feeling of dishonesty. Her life was a series of monumental screw-ups and she always thought her true role should be to serve as a warning to others. For every triumph, every success, there was that feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. Mac gave herself a mental shake, this was not the time nor the place for such introspection. Such things were best left to those hours of the night when she was unable to sleep.   
  
She gave Cat a wry smile, "If you find a good place, let me know. I'll be right in there with you, waiting for an 'All Clear'." Pushing herself off the wall, she waved at the stalls, "So... do I get a riding lesson today or not?"  
  
Cat stared at her for a moment and then smiled, "Well, of course, Cousin. We can't neglect your education."  
  
*******  
  
Harley hung up the phone and looked over at Don, "I'll be right back. I need to tell Jackson that the feed delivery will be late."  
  
Don raised an eyebrow, "Did they say why?"  
  
"Yes, their truck had a flat on the way back from Oakridge. The spare turned out to be trash so they're transferring our order to another truck while they wait for a tow. They're hoping to be here in an hour or so."  
  
"Has this ever happened before?" Don scowled slightly, wondering if he was just being paranoid.  
  
Harley thought for a moment, "Not a flat tire, but the truck has broken down before. One day, Roger Paul is going to have to cut the lock off his wallet and spring for a new truck." She stopped at the door, "You don't think RP is part of this group, do you? We've been dealing with him for close to twenty-five years."  
  
Don shook his head, "No, not really. Just feeling cautious; the feed truck will probably wind up here at the same time as the Pikes. Will that be a problem?"  
  
"No, I don't see how," Harley replied, "The boys who deliver the feed usually unload it. They just drive around to where the feed room is in the back of the barn. The Pikes won't even see them."  
  
Nodding thoughtfully, Don stood up, "I'll just tag along, if you don't mind. I need to stretch my legs."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1505 Local  
  
JD threw his pitchfork into the wheelbarrow and moved to the next stall. Glancing into the indoor ring, he saw one of the twins with the cousin practicing with ground poles. He taken a break about five minutes ago while dumping the wheelbarrow and done a quick survey of the area. Harley and the accountant were still in the office. It seemed that everyone else was up at the house. Nicky and the other guy should be showing up soon. It was time. He pulled out the cell phone and dialed a number. After two rings, he hung up and went back to cleaning stalls.  
  
*******  
  
Cat finished spacing the poles out on the ground and surveyed her handiwork. Satisfied that the distance was correct, she swung back up on Calypso and walked over to where Mac was waiting on Jack.  
  
"Okay," she said with a smile, "Now you're going to trot over those poles in a two-point position."  
  
Mac looked from the poles to Cat, "I am? I don't even know what a two-point position is."  
  
"It's not hard, you raise up off the saddle, leaning forward enough so that you can balance with just your stirrups." She demonstrated as she spoke and Mac gave it a try.   
  
After a couple of abortive attempts, she managed to balance, "Like this?"  
  
Cat nodded, "Now reach forward a little with your hands. If you feel unbalanced, grab for mane. You never want to haul on the reins and unintentionally snatch a horse in the mouth. Okay, let's go around the ring while you practice getting into two-point." After a couple of circuits, she sent Mac over the poles. Jack, old hand that he was, trotted the poles in workmanlike fashion. Cat had her circle back several times until Mac could swing into a two-point reasonably well. Signaling a halt, she rode over to where the Colonel was waiting, "Not bad for a beginner. We'll have you jumping little stuff by the end of the week."  
  
Mac laughed, "I don't think so, but thanks." She leaned down and patted Jack on the neck, "That's harder than it looks."  
  
"Yeah," Cat agreed, and was silent for a second or two, "Ma'am, would you mind if we rode outside for a bit? Cal gets a little antsy with only ringwork."  
  
"Sure," Mac agreed readily, "I could use a break." The Pikes were due any minute and, as before, she'd rather not have the Princess around them. Mac watched with admiration as Cat maneuvered Cal through the gate, opening and closing it without dismounting, and then the two women headed out.  
  
*******  
  
Harm looked out from the second story window and watched El and Tinker amble out to the barn. El had finally surrendered the game, apparently realizing that she was teetering on the edge of baking cookies until she went away to college. In typical twelve-year-old fashion, El had now decided that Henri and Bell were destined to become great friends - as soon as the big man managed to meet her favorite pony. Privately, Harm thought Henri would suffer a small equine heart attack at the sight of the human mountain. He sighed and absently ran a hand through his hair, at least now he wouldn't have to worry about any more El-induced white hairs.  
  
He started to step away from the window and then stopped as a car pulled in. He glanced at his watch, that had to be the Pikes. He watched as Stump and Harley came out to greet them and chat for a few minutes before heading to the office. As they disappeared inside, he saw Don make his way out of the barn and move quickly towards the house. Hopefully, the Pikes and Stump would settle on terms quickly and they could be on their merry way. The less people on Windswept, the better. He left the room and headed down the hallway to the stairs.   
  
*******  
  
Bo kept a lookout as his brothers and cousins clambered over the fence onto Windswept property. They'd gotten the signal to go about ten minutes ago. He was glad to finally be moving - he hated waiting. With the trees and rolling terrain, he was confident they would be undetected as they moved into position behind the main barns. Slinging his rifle across his shoulder, he led the way to a line of trees not far from the fence line. They had about a quarter mile or so to go south before they turned towards the main complex. He smiled to himself thinking about what he was going to do with the money. Little JD had really come through this time.  
  
They reached the edge of the trees and stopped to scan the area. Nothing but a couple of horses grazing. Bo flashed a grin at the others, this was going to be ridiculously easy. They were fifty feet from the trees when the sound of hoofbeats behind them caused him to spin, unslinging his rifle as he did. A woman on horseback cantered into view, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of five armed men. There was a brief moment of shock as the two sides stared at each other and then the woman wheeled her horse around and took off.  
  
Swearing, Bo ran after her, if she made the trees they'd never catch her and he could kiss all that money good-bye. Skidding to a halt, he threw his rifle up to his shoulder and took aim. He only had a few seconds, she was almost to the treeline. He squeezed off a shot and watched in satisfaction as the woman tumbled to the ground. The horse kept going. He heard the others coming up and turned to meet them. His grin of triumph quickly faded when his cousin Steve stepped forward and gave him an angry shove. "You idiot!" he hissed, "You know we were told no shooting until everyone was in position! Half the goddamn county is going to know we're here!"  
  
Bo glared at him and gestured in the direction of the woman, "If she'd gotten away, they'd know for sure where we were! I didn't have a choice!"  
  
Bo's brother Danny stepped up between the two men, "Shut up, both of you. What's done is done. We need to get out of here - now. With a little luck, no one will be able to tell where the shot came from." He turned and walked away, followed by the other two. Bo and Steve glared at each other for a moment longer and then hurried after the group. Bo shoved his way to the front and they continued on their way to the main barns.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1520 Local  
  
The sound of a gunshot made Pick frown and look behind. It was some distance off and the echoes made it difficult to decide just where it had come from. He listened intently for another minute or so and when it wasn't repeated, shrugged and dismissed it from his mind. They'd been hearing the occasional random shot all week. Nicky said it went on all the time. Pick's own experience growing up in the country bore testimony to that truth. Some folks just liked to shoot.  
  
He returned his attention to the road that ran past Windswept's southeastern border. The power and phone lines that marched across the Montgomery land came out at this point. Seeing a telephone repair crew parked there had made him stop and work his way in closer. He watched for a few more minutes, then pulled out and headed back to the copse of trees where he'd left Nicky and the horses. This probably wasn't anything but he'd still call and give the Commander a heads-up. Glancing at his watch, Pick decided it was time to head in. They'd continue their circuit a little further and come up to the main house from the south.  
  
*******  
  
Mac turned her head as the shot reverberated through the air. It was far enough away for the sound to be distorted by echoes. Glancing at the rolling hills, she frowned in disgust. It was practically impossible to narrow the location down beyond a vague direction of 'west'. Still, she was pretty sure it was too far away to have come from the barns or house. She thought about it for a moment, glancing over at a silent Cat, and then pulled out her cell phone. "Just a minute," she said. Cat nodded quietly and continued to wait.  
  
Hitting the speed-dial, Mac heard the other end pick up and said, "Harm? Is everything okay over there?"  
  
She heard him chuckle, "I think that's my line. Why are you asking?"  
  
"Didn't you hear the gunshot? It sounded like a rifle."  
  
Serious now, Harm said slowly, "No, but I've been indoors. Where are you?"  
  
"Almost to the jumping course; I couldn't tell how far away the shot was. It was somewhere to the west. I couldn't even tell you if it was on Windswept property. It was just the one. What's going on at the barn? Should we stay out?"  
  
"The Pikes are here. They're in the barn office, probably going over the contract agreement. How long will it take you to come in?" Harm headed back up the steps to the second floor.  
  
Mac relayed the question to Cat and then told Harm, "Cat says maybe 20 minutes or so. Do we stay out?"  
  
Harm stepped up to the window again and looked out, "I'm not sure, I think it's okay. Why don't you loiter for about fifteen minutes and then come in. The Pikes ought to be leaving by then."  
  
"Will do." Mac ended the call and looked over at Cat, "Harm wants us to wait about fifteen minutes before starting back. Where do you want to go?"  
  
Cat looked at her speculatively and then looked towards the jump course. She grinned at Mac, "I can think of a few ways to spend fifteen minutes."  
  
Mac's eyes widened in alarm, "Oh no... "  
  
*******  
  
The heavy rumble of a diesel alerted Stump. He got up from the desk and went to the office window. Turning back to his mother, he said, "The feed truck's finally arrived. I was starting to worry that we'd have to wait until tomorrow." He turned and came back to his seat, glancing between the Pikes and his mother, "Are we done here?"  
  
Harley smiled at Jonathan and Audrey. Their son was out roaming in the barn. "Yes, I think that's everything. I hope you have great success with BillyBlue. He's very talented, with a lot of heart." She held out a hand, "It's been a pleasure doing business with the both of you."  
  
The Pikes smiled at each other and then Jonathan pulled a pistol out of his pocket, "The pleasure's all ours." 


	13. Part 13

Part 13  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1530 Local  
  
Harley looked at the man holding the gun on them and then over at the woman, "I gather you're not the Pikes."  
  
The man grinned mockingly, "How very astute of you."  
  
The Montgomery matriarch gave him a baleful look, "You have the upper hand, young man. There's no need to be rude as well. I was merely wondering how to address you. Obviously, you're not Jonathan and Audrey."  
  
The man inclined his head. "I beg your pardon, madam," he said with a sardonic grin, "I would hate to be accused of ill manners. You may call me Nash and the lady by the door is Karen. Our darling 'son' is Aaron." He glanced over at Karen, "Speaking of whom, is the dear boy back yet?" The woman shook her head and continued to watch out the door.  
  
Stump spoke up, "Do the Pikes even exist?"  
  
"Of course." Nash tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Or perhaps I should say, DID exist. They've taken up a new sport since they last contacted you - underwater exploration." He grinned, pleased with himself while Karen rolled her eyes.  
  
Harley stared at him with a mixture of horror and loathing, "How could you? Those were innocent people!"  
  
Nash leaned forward with a feral grin, "Lady, you ain't seen nothing yet."  
  
*******  
  
Tink heard the sound of a large truck pull behind the barns. He managed to wait a couple of minutes before curiosity got the better of him. Excusing himself to El, Tink quietly walked to the end of the aisle where it connected with the corridor leading to the indoor ring. Even though it was probably silly, he couldn't help flattening against the barn wall and cautiously peering around the corner. What he saw made him swear softly and hurry back to the youngest Dzurick.  
  
She looked up from brushing Henri as he came quickly back and blanched at the look on his face, "What's the matter? ... is it them?" Her eyes were widening in fear.   
  
Tink knelt down so he could be eye-level with her, "It's them, but I don't think they know you're here. We need to hide you - there's not much time." He took her by the hand and began scanning the barn. There had to be a decent hiding place somewhere.  
  
El looked up at him, "What about you? Where are you going to hide?"  
  
Tink smiled down at her, "Sweetie, I'm too big to hide so I'm going to pretend that I'm one of the barn workers. They're not hurting anybody, just rounding them up."  
  
El nodded, reassured, and then pointed at a large pile of baled shavings, "There! I can make myself real small and you can stack the bales around me! They'll never guess."  
  
"Good girl!" Tink hurried to the shavings and started shifting. In a matter of minutes, El was concealed in the stack. He'd left his pistol and wallet with her as well. Chances were, he'd be searched and he couldn't afford to be armed or identified. He jogged back to Henri and, untying the sturdy little Connemara, started to lead him out of the barn. He wasn't a moment too soon.  
  
"Hey! You! Stop where you are!"  
  
Tink halted and turned back, letting an expression of surprise and annoyance change to fear, "Who're you?" He held up both hands as the two men approached. "Listen, if you want money, you can have it. I don't have much but it's all yours. Please don't shoot!"  
  
"Shut up." The shorter of the two came forward and began patting him down. Tink sighed inwardly, these guys knew what they were doing. The second man made sure he was out of reach while he covered his partner. Shorty found the cell phone and pocketed it. He stepped back and eyed Tinker suspiciously, "You don't carry a wallet?"  
  
Bell shrugged, "I've lost two since I started here. I got tired of having to replace stuff."  
  
They stared at him for a moment longer and then Shorty motioned with his gun, "Let's go."  
  
Tink looked uncomfortable, gesturing with the hand holding the lead rope, "Can I put Henri back in his stall? I don't want to get in any trouble."  
  
The two men exchanged glances, rolling their eyes. Shorty smirked at Bell and waved a hand, "Sure, go ahead. We wouldn't want the Montgomerys to give you a hard time."  
  
They let Bell latch the stall and then hustled him out of the private stable and across the indoor ring to the main barn. They stopped when they reached a thin, red-haired man leaning against a door along the aisleway. He looked at Tink and whistled, "Jeez, he's a big one. Where'd you find him?"  
  
Shorty jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Over in the little barn." He glanced around, "Is he the last? Did you have any problems?"  
  
"No problems, it was like herding sheep. I think he's it," Red chuckled, slinging his automatic weapon over his shoulder and pulling out a key. He unlocked the padlock and pushed the door open. He gestured at Tink, "In."  
  
Tink meekly entered the room and got out of the way as Red reached in and pulled the door shut. A moment later, he heard the padlock being fastened once again. He was stuck.  
  
********  
  
JD stepped away from the back of the barn and let out a piercing whistle. Shading his eyes, he waited and then smiled as five figures rose out of the grass near the outdoor ring. He went to meet them halfway and there was an exchange of back-slapping and arm-punching. JD finally broke away and gestured at a young man who had followed along and was watching them silently, "This here is Aaron. He's one of the guys in charge."  
  
Aaron nodded to the men and then asked coolly, "Which one of you found it necessary to fire their weapon?"  
  
Bo scuffed a boot for a moment and then stepped forward, "I did." His head rocked back and he staggered a step when Aaron's fist connected with his jaw. Swearing, he started to lunge forward only to be grabbed by his brothers from either side. JD appeared in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest and looking nervously over his shoulder at Aaron.  
  
The young man stepped forward and glared at Bo, "You were told not to discharge your weapons. You nearly ruined the whole operation." He pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Bo's head. Everyone froze. Aaron leaned forward and said in a quietly venomous tone, "I ought to put a bullet into that worthless, empty skull of yours but I'm going to give you a second chance." He glanced over at JD who cringed a little, "It seems that two of our targets were not where your little brother said they'd be. He assures me that they won't have gone far and should be back any time now. I want you to get out of sight and intercept them on their return." His voice turned bitingly sarcastic, "There's six of you and only two of them. I trust you can handle this without turning it into a shootout at the OK Corral." Spinning on his heel, he strode back into the barn.  
  
Bo shook off the hands holding him and stared after Aaron in silent rage. Fists clenched at his side, he swore to himself that before this was over, he'd beat that smug son of a bitch within an inch of his life. He looked sourly at JD, "Where should we wait?"   
  
*******  
  
Harm leaned against the window frame and glanced at his watch. The feed truck had shown up ten minutes ago and the Pikes still hadn't left. Probably exchanging war stories with Stump and Harley, he thought sourly. He wished they'd just hand over the check and go, he didn't need extra people hanging around Windswept. His cell phone interrupted his train of thought. Flipping it open, he said, "Rabb."  
  
"Commander? It's Tyler, sir."  
  
Harm straightened up, "Something wrong, Lieutenant?"  
  
"I don't know for sure, sir. We're over at the southeastern edge of Windswept and there was a phone company truck across the way until about five minutes ago. Is everything working over there?"  
  
Harm frowned, "Just a second and I'll check." He walked over to small table and picked up the handset of phone that was sitting there. He listened for a moment and then replaced it and got back on his cell phone. "The phone up here on the second floor is dead as a doornail. Let me go check the secure line in the Colonel's room."  
  
Tyler waited quietly for a couple of minutes and then Harm's voice came back on the line, "That's dead, too. Do you think the phone guys were searching for a problem or creating one?" Pick was silent, somewhat at a loss for words when Harm's voice came through again, "Never mind, Pick, that was a stupid question. Short of asking them, you'd have no way to tell." There was a brief pause, "It could be a coincidence but if it's not, I don't see what they think they'll accomplish. They're not cutting our communications, we all have cell phones."  
  
"Maybe that means they're legitimate, sir," Tyler offered. He couldn't see the point in cutting the phone lines either.  
  
"Maybe," Harm agreed. "When are you and Nicky coming in?"  
  
"Heading back now, sir," Pick answered. "We'll be coming up from the south, should take about fifteen or twenty minutes."  
  
"Okay, Pick, see you then," Harm ended the call and resumed his spot by the window. He was getting a bad feeling about all this.  
  
*******  
  
Mac pulled Jack down to a walk and turned back towards Cat. She still had trouble with the trot if it got going too fast. Cantering, on the other hand, had been surprisingly simple. According to Cat, Jack had a rocking horse canter that was easy to sit. 'Obviously she was right,' Mac thought ruefully, ' or I'd be sitting on my head out here in the field.'   
  
Cat had set up a series of very small jumps - small enough that Mac could have handled them easily without the horse. It was fun and definitely an experience. She couldn't imagine taking jumps the size of the ones that Carol did. Coming up alongside Cat, she smiled and said, "It's been 17 minutes, we need to get going."  
  
Cat nodded and together they turned their horses' heads towards Windswept and started back.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1540 Local  
  
Harm fidgeted and checked his watch again. Mac and Cat, as well as Nicky and Tyler, would be appearing any time now and the Pikes were STILL hanging around. He rubbed his jaw, maybe he should have Don go out there and try to unobtrusively hurry them along. His gaze sharpened as a phone company truck pulled into the parking area near the barn. It stopped and two men got out. They stood for a moment, looking between the house and the barn, apparently trying to decide where to go first. He relaxed slightly when Gus, trailed by Don, came into view from the house, walking towards the men. Then Harley and Stump came out of the barn, flanked by Mr. and Mrs. Pike. Their son followed along behind.   
  
They all met together at the truck and half a minute later, the whole group turned and started moving to the house. Frowning slightly, Harm stared at the crowd making its way towards him. There was something wrong about this, something... his eyes widened when he realized that the Montgomerys weren't so much leading the group as being herded by them. Son of a bitch! There wasn't much time, they were almost to the steps.  
  
He hurried down the hallway, and quietly opened the door to Gheorghe and Carol's room. Looking in, he swore softly. The room was empty, the Dzuricks must have gone downstairs. Closing the door again, Harm headed for the stairs. He had just started down when he heard the front door open. Spinning around, he leapt back up to the hallway and flattened himself against the wall. He could hear footsteps hurrying along downstairs, he was rapidly running out of time. Quietly he went down the hall to his room. It was in the southeast corner of the house with windows on each side. The east window opened up over the verandah, making it relatively easy to climb out and down except that it was in full view of the barn. The south window was to one side of the back porch. He wouldn't be seen but there was also a good chance he'd break his neck trying to gain the porch roof.  
  
Harm shook his head, no guts - no glory. He needed to get away to warn the others and summon help. Opening the south window, he pulled out the screen and stashed it behind the dresser. Hopefully, the bad guys' first thought when they checked this room was that he liked to sleep with the window open. Reversing himself, he backed out of the window until he was hanging by his fingers. He looked down and grimaced. His feet were actually just below the porch roof but he was close to two feet away. It might as well have been the Grand Canyon. His hands were beginning to hurt - he needed to move. Carefully, he edged along the window sill until he couldn't go any further. That narrowed the distance to a foot. Alternately pulling up with each arm, he started to rock from side to side. At the height of his swing, he let go and landed on all fours on the roof.   
  
Immediately, Harm flattened himself out and froze, listening to see if anyone had noticed the thump. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, he edged to a corner and quietly let himself down to the ground. Doing his best to keep trees and bushes between himself and the house, he finally reached the edge of a large clear area that ended at the pasture fence. It was a good twenty yards across without the least bit of cover, but, if he could get over the fence, there was enough broken ground to get him to the woods about 250 yards away.  
  
After carefully scanning the area around the house, Harm looked back at the open ground and focused on the point where he would vault into the pasture. Taking a deep breath, he took one last look and sprinted across the field. Reaching the fence, he leaped for the top rail and flung himself over, dropping to a prone position on the other side. Raising his head, he looked back towards the house and let out the breath he was holding - still clear. Rolling onto his back, Harm reached into his pants pocket for his phone. He needed to call Mac and Tyler and warn them away. He let out an impressive oath when he came up empty. Frantically searching the rest of his pockets produced the same result. He rolled back onto his elbows and looked back the way he'd come. Somewhere out there was his cell phone. Clenching his hands into fists and squeezing his eyes shut, Harm allowed himself a five-second litany of the foulest words he could think of. Mac and Tyler would be riding into a trap and he had no way to warn them.   
  
Thumping a fist into the ground, Harm took a deep breath and let it out. This was not the time for panic or self-recriminations. If he couldn't warn them by cell phone, he would think of something else. Tyler had said he and Nicky would be coming in from the south. Once Harm made it to the treeline, there was a good chance he could intercept them. The problem would be warning Mac. He raked a hand through his hair and then paused... if he opened fire on these people, it was possible he could throw them into disarray and alert Mac at the same time. All he would need would be a rifle. Harm rose to a crouch and began the long, cautious trek to the woods... and one of the weapon caches that Tyler had set up.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1550 Local  
  
Nash paced back and forth, eyeing the group of people in front of him. For the most part, things were going according to plan. Gaining the house had been relatively easy. The security chief, Zali, had been the only one to cause trouble, objecting to the way Nash's men had shoved the Dzuricks into the family room. That had earned him a clout across the head. He was now tied to a chair, sporting a gash and the beginnings of a very vivid bruise on the side of his head. Zali had woken up quickly but completely disoriented - a condition that persisted. Nash dismissed him as any sort of a threat. He turned to the only other man they tied up. Smith had been posing as an accountant but his credentials had revealed him to be FBI. Prudence had dictated having Smith bound although Nash had been openly contemptuous. This was the best the Government could do against a threat to foreign royalty? An over-the-hill Bureau agent? No wonder the country was in the shape it was in.  
  
He turned around as Bodie came to the door, "Well?"  
  
Bodie gave him a smile, "The barn's secure, all the riff-raff are in the tackroom. The door's padlocked and Doyle is keeping watch."  
  
"Good, any sign of our wandering sheep?"  
  
Bodie shook his head, "Not when I left. Aaron's got the local talent in position. The Cartwright kid said the daughter and the cousin ought to be back any time now."  
  
"Colonel." Nash said, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"What?" Bodie stared at him in confusion.  
  
"Colonel, not cousin. That woman is a Lt. Colonel in the Marine Corps. Didn't Aaron tell them?"  
  
Bodie shrugged uncomfortably, "I don't know. He was pretty pissed when he went by, I didn't ask. What difference does it make? It's still two broads against six guys."  
  
Nash took a deep breath, resisting the urge to slap some sense into the young man in front of him. The one he needed to chew out was Aaron although he knew it was partially his own fault. The realization didn't make him any happier. He should have gone over this before letting the young lieutenant go back to the barn.   
  
Nash gave Bodie a hard stare, "That 'broad' is weapons-qualified and probably armed. We're not in a vacuum here. They get into a firefight with her and some good neighbor is going to call the authorities and tell them World War III has broken out on the Montgomery place." He stepped in closer, "Not to mention the fact that it will warn the man guarding the Prince that something's gone wrong." He waved an arm, "None of this works unless we get them all." He moved even closer and jabbed a finger into Bodie's chest, "We don't get PAID if we don't get them all. Now get back to the barn and have Aaron put some of our people with those local clowns. I need this done right!"  
  
Nodding hurriedly, Bodie backed up. The last thing he wanted was for Nash to be mad at him. The man could be downright psychotic when he was angry. He was almost to the front door when three rapid shots rang out and then all hell broke loose. Swearing, he plunged out of the house and down the steps. He'd rather be in a firefight than anywhere near Nash.  
  
*******  
  
Mac and Cat came out of the field near Windswept's main drive. They were still about an eighth of a mile from the barn. Mac pointed down the road in the other direction, "What's down that way?"  
  
"Uncle Jack and Uncle Mike's places," Cat answered, turning Cal's head towards home. "Their kids are mostly away at college, except for Mikey, the one that just got married, he's in Louisville."  
  
"Any of them planning to continue the family business?" Mac kept half an eye on the countryside as they ambled back to the barn.  
  
Cat shrugged, "Uncle Jack's daughter, Candace, wants to train horses like her dad. She's at William Woods in Missouri right now, in her freshman year. I think Nicky's considering it as well but right now I don't think he knows if he's coming or going."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I've already got a job," Cat smiled, looking over at Mac. "As much as I love this place, I think I love Bacovia more. I miss the mountains." She saw the Colonel stiffen, pulling Jack to a halt. Alarmed, she swung her gaze around and stopped when she reached JD Cartwright. He was leaning against the side of the Montgomerys' private barn with an insolent smile on his face. As he pushed himself upright, five armed men came out of the barn and fanned out, approaching the two women.  
  
As the men closed in, Cat threw a frightened look at Mac. She looked grim but not scared. Cat heard her say in a low tone, "Get ready to run." The Colonel's eyes never left the approaching men as her hand moved slowly towards the front of her jacket. Cat knew she was carrying a sidearm. She couldn't possibly be thinking about taking on all five! It would be suicide. The Bacovian heir broke out in a cold sweat when she realized the Marine Colonel was apparently planning to sacrifice herself in order for Cat to escape. Calypso began to fidget nervously, picking up on her rider's fear.  
  
There had to be something she could do! Cat let Cal circle, scanning the area as she pulled the mare back around. The men coming towards her stopped as the mare's hindquarters swung past them. Cat's eyes narrowed at the beginnings of a desperate plan. Unobtrusively, she dug her heels into Cal's sides while setting her hands. The result was an increasing agitated horse. She was now stepping nervously in place, tail swishing violently. Cal moved sideways, bumping Jack, causing him to move uneasily.   
  
The men stopped again, while JD glared at Cat, "Make that horse stand still!"  
  
"I'm trying!" Cat snapped, pushing the mare sideways with a leg. "You're scaring her!" Now the Colonel was watching her as well. Cat released her hands a little, letting Cal plunge forward a step before gathering her up again. The men closest to the mare retreated backwards a step. Cat spun Calypso back on her forehand, scattering the men still further. JD continued to yell at her, Cat grimly ignored him as she concentrated on presenting the image of a rapidly uncontrollable horse. Sliding Cal between Mac and the men, she caught   
the Colonel's eye and with a quick tilt of her head, indicated the area behind them. Mac's eyebrows rose as she finally caught on to what Cat was doing.  
  
Satisfied, Cat decided to make her move. She let Calypso plunge forward again and then pulled her into a tight circle, bouncing into Jack and causing him to turn with her. Once he was facing away from the barn, Cat sent Cal skittering sideways once more. Then she set her hands and applied more leg leaving the mare with no choice but to rise up on her hind legs. Seeing a rearing 16+ hand horse was an impressive sight and the Cartwrights stared up at her, weapons momentarily forgotten. Cat brought her down with a bounce and sent the mare straight into the men, causing them to dive out of the way. Spinning her back completed the disarray. Cat finally gave Calypso her head, sending her leaping into a gallop. As she came up to Jack, Cat reached over and whacked him sharply across the hindquarters with her crop.  
  
The normally stolid Jack let out an indignant squeal and bolted, snapping Mac's head back at the unexpected acceleration. Fortunately, she stayed on, grabbing desperately for mane as the gelding took off at a dead run. Cal easily stayed alongside as the men's shouts and curses were lost over the pounding of hooves. Mac gave Cat a wide-eyed look and managed to shout, "Where... ?"  
  
Cat pointed at the rapidly approaching pasture fence. "Jump!" she yelled. Once they cleared the fence, there would be no way for the men to catch them.  
  
Mac looked at her horrified, shaking her head violently, "No! I can't!"  
  
"Two point!" Cat yelled fiercely, they were running out of time and space. She let Cal surge ahead to give Jack the lead he needed. She and Calypso sailed over the fence, Cat looking over her shoulder as soon as they landed. She breathed a sigh of relief when Jack cleared the fence also, she wasn't sure he had it in him. The relief turned to dread as the Colonel catapulted over Jack's head on the landing. With absolutely no experience, she hadn't known when to straighten up. Her weight forward, the jolt of Jack hitting earth had sent her flying. It was a spectacular crash with the Colonel bouncing several times before rolling to a stop.  
  
Cat pulled her mare around and sent her flying back to the still form lying in the grass. She slid to a halt just as Mac raised herself up on an elbow. "Ma'am?" Cat asked anxiously, the Colonel had yet to acknowledge her presence.   
  
Mac lay in the grass for a long moment, trying to force air back into her lungs. What the hell had happened? There was a nagging sense of urgency but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. At the moment, it was hard to decide which part of her hurt more. On the other hand, there was the vague sense of relief that she wasn't dead... dead? ... dead! Mac's eyes flew open. Those men... she and Cat were running away... Cat, where the hell was Cat?!   
  
She pushed herself up on an elbow and immediately regretted it as the world seemed to tilt and spin. She froze, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw, forcing down the nausea. She didn't have time for this, she needed to find Cat! The roaring in her ears subsided and Mac became aware of a voice talking to her from somewhere above her head. She cautiously pried one eye open and was relieved when the landscape stayed in one place. Carefully, she swiveled her head around and looked up. "Cat?" Her voice came out more as a croak.  
  
"Yes ma'am," Cat looked down at her anxiously, "Ma'am? Can you get up?" She sent a worried glance back the way they had come. The Cartwrights had regrouped and were racing towards them. Her heart sank as the Colonel struggled slowly to her knees and stopped, breathing heavily. It had been a hard fall, she hadn't had enough time to recover. Cat looked again between the onrushing Cartwrights and the Colonel. Her face hardened with determination, she'd just have to make time. She pivoted Calypso neatly and sent her galloping back the way they'd come, her riding crop held like a sword. They cleared the fence with room to spare and plowed through the surprised men. She was past them in a heartbeat and then swinging Cal around, charged into their midst, laying into them ferociously with the crop.   
  
If Cat was hoping to monopolize their attention, she was succeeding admirably. The Colonel was forgotten as the six men converged on the Bacovian heir, intent on pulling her off her horse. It was easier said than done as Cat kept the mare spinning, backing and leaping. Calypso was entering into the spirit of the fight, her ears pinned flat and the whites of her eyes showing. She started lashing out with her back legs whenever anyone came too near her hindquarters. Cat was beginning to feel desperate, she knew it was only a matter of time before someone thought to shoot the mare out from under her.   
  
*******  
  
Shocked to see Cat heading back towards the Cartwrights, Mac forced herself upright, staggering unsteadily. Dammit to hell! Was the kid out of her mind? Hearing someone in the distance yelling her name made her turn around. She moved too quickly, losing her balance and going down on one knee. Looking up, Mac saw two horsemen rapidly closing on her. Struggling back to her feet, she concentrated on focusing and blinked in surprise when she realized it was Tyler and Nicky. Pick was shouting something at her... her arm? She watched as he stuck his right arm out and waved it. Obediently, she raised her right arm. It was just as well that it wasn't her left arm he wanted, she didn't think she could get it above her head.  
  
She barely registered Nicky flashing by and then Tyler was there, sliding his horse to a halt beside her. He latched onto her arm and yanked her up in front of him as Brazos went into a rollback and then galloped back to the treeline. Mac couldn't quite suppress a groan at the jolt of being pulled aboard. She heard Pick mutter 'Sorry' as he adjusted his grip and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Cat... ," she protested.  
  
"Got it covered, ma'am," Pick said reassuringly. Harm had found he and Nicky about ten minutes ago and filled them in on the attack on Windswept. All three had arrived at the treeline opposite the main barn complex in time to witness the escape of the two women. The Commander had been beside himself when the Colonel did her crash and burn. Nicky had been beside himself when his sister charged back into the group. The rescue plan was abrupt and to the point. Pick would get the Colonel, Nicky would get his sister and Harm would provide covering fire.  
  
Nicky flew over the pasture fence and raced headlong towards his sister. She was slowly being overwhelmed. One man had managed to latch onto her leg and was attempting to pull her off and someone else had finally managed to grab Calypso's bridle. Cat was still battling desperately but the Cartwrights were winning and they knew it. They never saw Nicky until he plowed into the group, bowling them over and trampling one who was unlucky enough to get caught underfoot. Circling past Calypso's head, he reached out and grabbed the ponytail of the man holding the bridle and kept on moving. With a howl, the man let go of the bridle and grabbed at the back of his head. Nicky dragged him forward a few steps and then let go, dropping him facefirst in the dirt.  
  
Spinning back to his sister, Nicky pointed at the fence and yelled, "Run!" Cat needed no second urging and once again booted Calypso into a gallop towards the pasture fence. Nicky was right behind her. They both instinctively flattened themselves against their horses as the sharp crack of a rifle sounded behind them. It was answered almost immediately by two quick shots from the front and right of the fleeing brother and sister. Cat flashed a look of alarm at Nicky and got a reassuring smile in return. Moments later, they were airborne taking the fence at the same time. Calypso stumbled slightly on the landing and then recovered, she was completely lathered. The firefight behind them intensified. Cat wasn't sure who was doing the firing for their side but he was giving a very good account of himself, keeping the Cartwrights pinned down. Staying low in the saddle, the siblings let their horses lengthen out into a gallop for the treeline and safety. 


	14. Part 14

Part 14  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1535 Local  
  
"Who are you?"   
  
Tink turned around and saw huddled group of young men and women. Some appeared to have been crying, all looked frightened. He figured them to be about Pick's age, in their early twenties. Bell glanced at the door and then took a step towards them. They visibly flinched and unconsciously banded tighter together. Tink stopped and sighed, "I'm not with them and I'm not planning on hurting any of you. My name is Bell. Do all of you work at Windswept?"  
  
A young man and woman looked at each other and then stepped forward together. The man spoke first, "I'm Anthony James, but you can call me Little T. This is Maggie. We all work for the Montgomerys. What the hell is going on? Who are these lunatics?"  
  
Tink ran a hand through his hair, "That could take a while, mind if I sit down?" He'd discovered early on that people found him less intimidating when he was sitting.  
  
Little T waved a hand, "Be my guest. Pull up a tack box and have a seat."  
  
Tink did just that and watched the group begin to relax, "Do all of you know that the Montgomerys' daughter, Carol, is the Queen of a small, eastern European country called Bacovia?"  
  
There were nods from most of the group, although one young man looked at his neighbor and said incredulously, "For real? I thought it was some sort of family joke. Aren't the Montgomerys American?"  
  
One of the girls answered him, "Of course, the Montgomerys are Americans." She looked at Tink, "She married into royalty, right? Like Princess Grace of Monaco?"  
  
Bell nodded and continued, "Bacovia is pretty small and until recently, nobody paid much attention to it."  
  
Maggie put up a hand, "What happened recently?"  
  
Tink shifted a little, the tack box wasn't the most comfortable thing he'd ever sat on, "U.S. intelligence has discovered a link-up between the Chechens and some al-Qaeda operatives. Apparently they've decided that Bacovia would make an excellent terrorist base. To do that, they need a government that is more in sympathy with their goals. In order to get the government they need, they have to get rid of the old one." Tink stopped for a moment to let them digest that information.  
  
Another young man put up a hand, "But what are they doing here? Practicing?"  
  
There were a few nervous sniggers in the background. Tink let it die down and then said quietly, "The current government of Bacovia is a monarchy and the current ruling family is adamantly opposed to terrorism."  
  
The same young man spoke up again, "So? ...What? They throw them out of office and bring in someone who's for terrorism?"  
  
Tink stared at him, "They're not planning on just throwing the royal family out." He heard Maggie's sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Oh my God," her eyes were huge, "they're going to kill the whole family? Even the kids? But... but... the little one, she's only, like, ten or so."  
  
"Twelve," Bell said grimly. "Age doesn't matter to these people. They have to kill the entire family." He watched the reaction ripple through the group.  
  
"But these guys are Americans," Little T protested. "What would they care if al-Qaeda was in Bacovia or not?"  
  
"They're mercenaries," Tink said shortly. "They claim to be in it to advance their political views but what they want is money."  
  
"Who ARE you?" T asked again. "CIA?"  
  
Tink looked indignant, "I'm Corporal Thomas Bell of the United States Marine Corps."  
  
The group stared at him in disbelief. "You're a jarhead?" someone asked.  
  
"Marine," Bell rumbled ominously, beginning to scowl.  
  
Little T held up his hands, looking decidedly nervous, "Hey, no offense, man." He glanced back at the others and leaned forward a little, "So, what do you think they're gonna do with us?"  
  
"That's hard to say," Tink hedged. The last thing he wanted was a roomful of panicked civilians.  
  
"Take a guess," the young man persisted.  
  
"For godsakes, T," Maggie interrupted. "What do you want him to say? None of those guys were wearing masks or anything. What makes you think they're going to just let us go?" She glared at Tink, "Is there anything we can do? I don't want to sit here and wait for them to shoot me like a fish in a barrel."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1555 Local  
  
Nicky and Cat entered the woods and immediately brought their horses down to a walk. Neither relished the thought of banging a kneecap into a tree. Cat glanced down at her mare's heaving flanks and dismounted, loosening the girth. She looked nervously over her shoulder to the field beyond the trees and then back up at her brother, "We can't stay here."  
  
Nicky nodded, "We're supposed to meet in a clearing back this way. Pick and Colonel MacKenzie should be there already." Maneuvering his gelding around his sister and Calypso, he took the lead down a narrow horse path.  
  
"Is the Colonel all right?" Cat kept glancing nervously over her shoulder. The gunfire seemed to be dying down.  
  
Nicky shook his head, looking back at his sister, "I don't know, I was concentrating on you."  
  
"Nicky?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you. You were amazing out there."  
  
He shrugged his shoulders and looked back at her with an embarrassed smile, "You were doing all right, I just evened up the odds a little. ... Besides, I'm the only one who's allowed to pick on my older sisters."  
  
She grinned at him and they fell into a companionable silence as they followed along the meandering horse trail.  
  
********  
  
Mac braced herself against the tree and slowly swept her eyes across the clearing. Tyler had gone to find Jack at her urging. As much as she wasn't looking forward to riding again, it would be the only way she could keep up when they started to move. She opted to remain standing, afraid that sitting down would lead to collapsing. She desperately wanted to, preferably in a steaming hot bath with a bottle of ibuprofen in each hand. Her body was one huge ache but she didn't think she'd broken anything new. Mac wasn't sure what kind of damage she'd done to her left shoulder. She remembered vividly how it had felt when her collarbone had broken before and that hadn't happened again, but raising her left arm to shoulder level required pain-filled effort. She'd tucked it inside her jacket after shifting her pistol to her right-hand coat pocket. She'd had the holster clipped in front of her left hip so she could cross-draw with her right hand. Now she sported the beginnings of a huge bruise where the sidearm had been driven into her from the fall.  
  
Mac heard the sound of someone approaching before she could see anyone. Easing back behind the tree, she put her hand in her jacket pocket, wrapping it around the reassuring feel of the 9mm pistol. Tension turned to relief when first Nicky and then Cat entered the clearing. She stepped out from behind the tree when she saw them scanning the clearing anxiously.  
  
"Over here," she called softly, pulling her hand out of her pocket and waving.  
  
"Colonel!" Cat threw her reins at her brother, racing across the clearing. She stopped just in front of Mac, rocking back uncertainly on her heels, unsure how the Marine officer would react to an embrace.  
  
Mac recognized her dilemma and lifted her right arm with a slight smile, "Just be careful. I think I'm one big bruise."  
  
Gratefully, Cat stepped in and cautiously hugged the Colonel. Now that the adrenaline was fading, she found she couldn't stop trembling.   
  
Mac could feel the young woman shaking. Rubbing her back, she murmured soothingly, "It's okay, everybody's safe." Leaning back a little, she looked into eyes that were bright with unshed tears, "You did good, you know. I'm very proud of you."  
  
That did it. Cat started sobbing, burying her head in Mac's shoulder. Mac just held on, letting the tears run their course. Nicky came up, trailing the two horses. He started patting his sister's shoulder awkwardly, looking at the Colonel in dismayed confusion. Mac smiled at the young man, "She'll be fine in a minute, she just needs to get this out of her system."  
  
After a few more moments, Cat pulled back, wiping at her face with both hands, her sobs diminishing to an occasional hitch in her breathing. She gave Nicky a tremulous smile and he returned it with relief. He hated to see his sisters cry, he never knew exactly what to do about it.  
  
Cat turned from him to Mac and her smile faded. Her relief at finding the Colonel safe and subsequent crying jag had kept her from really looking at the older woman. Now she noticed how pale the Marine officer seemed and how carefully she was keeping herself upright. "Ma'am?" she asked, worry creasing her brow, "Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?"  
  
Mac smiled ruefully, "I feel like someone just put me through the tumble-dry cycle and I'm afraid to sit down. I might not get up."  
  
Cat stared at her with wide eyes, "I'm so sorry, Colonel. I should have thought of something besides jumping that fence."  
  
Easing herself back so that she was once more braced against the tree trunk, Mac raised an eyebrow, "My plan involved getting shot. I'll take the bruises, thank you." She gave Cat a stern look, "And what were you thinking when you charged back into that group?"  
  
Scuffing a toe in the dirt, Cat couldn't quite meet the Colonel's eye, "I was just trying to give you time to get away."  
  
Mac sighed, "Cat... " She waited until the young woman looked up at her, "Thank you, but please don't do anything like that again. You took years off my life." Mac grinned at the Princess, "Besides, you're not always going to have someone as brave as your brother rescuing you."  
  
Cat grinned back and then turned to her furiously blushing younger brother. She knew he was both enamored and terrified of the Colonel. Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him on the cheek, "You should have seen him, ma'am. They never knew what hit 'em."  
  
"I can believe that... " Mac broke off abruptly when the horses' heads and ears came up, pointing into the woods to their right. She pushed herself off the trunk, her hand going into her coat pocket. "Get into the trees behind me, take the horses with you," she ordered tersely. "Now!"  
  
Turning so that the tree trunk would be between her and whatever was coming, Mac gritted her teeth and sank down into a crouch. Anxious minutes passed and then she sagged with relief when Harm suddenly appeared in the clearing. "Over here!" she called softly.  
  
He hurried over, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and kneeling down next to her. His eyes worriedly scanned her, taking in her appearance, "How bad?"  
  
Mac returned the look, "I might ask you the same thing. Pick didn't say much."  
  
Harm gave an exasperated sigh, "It's not good. We're it, but we don't have time for details right now. We need to get out of here." He gave her a more pointed look, "How bad?"  
  
She gave him a tired grin, "Nothing broken, I think, but I'd kill for a soft bed and an icepack right about now."  
  
He smiled back, "I'll bet." Harm glanced up when Nicky and Cat reappeared out of the underbrush and then continued to look around, "Where's Tyler?"  
  
"I sent him to find Jack, if he could," Mac said, trying not to grimace as she let Harm do most of the work in getting her on her feet. "We need to move right now, don't we?"  
  
"Yeah," Harm replied, keeping an arm around her waist, "they've probably figured out by now that I've left but I'm hoping they'll still be pretty cautious while they make sure. We need to be as far away from here as we can." He eyed her in concern, he was still supporting a lot of her weight, "Think you can handle it?"  
  
"Have to," came the short reply. Mac had been hoping that Pick would have returned by now. Had something happened to him?  
  
Cat stepped forward, "Excuse me, ma'am... sir; but we could lead you on Cal... " she turned partway and gestured towards Nicky, "... or Alcazar. That'd be faster, wouldn't it?"  
  
Mac eyed the two horses dubiously. Calypso was a good-sized mare, Alcazar was even larger. It would be a bit of a climb to get up there and an even longer fall down. She cringed mentally, just thinking about it. "I don't know... " she said slowly.  
  
Harm spoke up at almost the same time, "I'd rather have you and your brother riding, Cat. You and Nicky are the ones they're really after." He glanced down at Mac to see her nodding in agreement, "Our job is to see to it that both of you stay out of their hands." Motioning towards the horses, he said, "Mount up. We have to leave."  
  
Reluctantly, Nicky gave Cat a leg up on Calypso and then vaulted onto Alcazar. Harm waved a hand at them, "Head west, stay near the trees. We'll be right behind you." He watched them head out and looked down at Mac, "Ready?"  
  
"No, but let's do it anyway," Mac said, steeling herself for the trek ahead. It was time to suck it up. They needed to find a safe place so they could make plans for rescuing the Dzuricks.   
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1605 Local  
  
El sat very quietly and listened. She was not going to cry. She was twelve years old and a princess besides and crying simply wasn't done. She'd almost crawled out of her hiding space after those men had taken Tinker away but had heard the other voices in time. She'd hadn't liked what she heard or the way they'd said it and she'd been incensed when she realized that they were the Cartwrights. Maybe Mr. Rabb should have listened to Mo. It'd gotten quiet again and then there'd been yelling and shouting. Mostly it was men's voices but she thought she'd heard her sister's voice too. That had scared her and when the shooting started, she'd been terrified. She curled herself up even tighter and kept her eyes squeezed shut. It seemed like forever before the gunfire had died down and she was afraid of what that might mean.  
  
The minutes crawled by and then she heard voices again, well, mostly a voice. She hadn't heard it before, it sounded young, like that nice Lt. Tyler. This voice was angry and steadily growing in volume. El concentrated on listening, it sounded like they were standing just inside the barn.  
  
"They got away?! Six of you and they just waltzed out?" Aaron threw up his hands in disgust and looked over at Bodie, "Have you ever seen such incredible stupidity?"  
  
Bodie shook his head, grateful that he was just a foot soldier. Aaron was in worlds of trouble with Nash. Someone was going to pay dearly for this blunder. Relieved of any of the responsibility, Bodie could afford to watch everything unfold with a clinical eye. He knew Aaron well enough to pick up the slight edge of hysteria in his anger. He couldn't blame him, they both remembered what had happened two years ago. Dave Tavis had been an up-and-comer in their organization, one Nash had taken under his wing. He was extremely bright and then his ego had ballooned out of control with the personal attention.   
  
Things came to a head when Nash had decided to test their training and pick up some capital on the way by staging a bank robbery. Obsessive-compulsive, he'd planned everything down to the smallest detail. They executed the op-plan perfectly and then Tavis decided to improvise on his own. Things fell apart in a hurry - one civilian was killed, Artie was captured and instead of picking up close to $250,000, they only got $20,000.  
  
They made it back to their rendezvous point and Tavis had been contrite, apologizing profusely. Nash had heard him out in apparent calmness. What happened after that still gave Bodie nightmares. None had been allowed to leave and when Tavis finally died, hours later, everyone had breathed a sigh of relief. Nobody ever failed Nash again... until now.  
  
Aaron rounded on the Cartwrights again, "What the hell happened?!"  
  
JD glanced at the others and shuffled his feet, "It wasn't our fault. The princess' horse started going crazy and then the two of them bolted."  
  
"Bolted? Bolted where?" Aaron glared at the Cartwrights. "No one went by us at the main barn. You let them turn around and go back the way they came? Didn't you block their path? What kind of morons are you?!"  
  
JD stared at him, anger becoming visible on his face, "Of course we blocked them!" He jabbed a finger towards the pasture, "How could we know that they'd jump the pasture fence? We didn't think they'd go that way. That cousin of theirs hasn't been riding very long - she shouldn't have gotten over at all!"  
  
"So you started shooting... ," Aaron measured the distance to the fence with his eye, "... that's what? A hundred feet? And all of you together couldn't hit two women or their horses?" He swept a contemptuous glance over the group and froze when he noticed two of the men in the back. One was trying to lean inconspicuously on the other. Aaron pushed past the others until he was face to face with the two. They stared sullenly back and then jumped in surprise when he shot a hand out and grabbed the wrist of the one who was leaning. Pulling it away from the man's side, Aaron stared at the growing red stain. He turned back to JD, his voice dripping with disdain, "You couldn't hit the women but you managed to shoot one of your own? How the hell have any of you managed to live this long?"  
  
Unable to contain himself, Bo shoved past JD, "Someone was shooting at us, smart-ass!" He looked down at the smaller man and shoved a finger in his chest, "This is YOUR fault! You never told us they would have guns!"  
  
Aaron grabbed the finger and snapped it backwards, dropping Bo to his knees with a howl. Hanging on to it, Aaron stepped in closer, pulled out his pistol in one smooth move and shot the eldest Cartwright between the eyes. Letting the corpse drop to the ground, he swept his gaze around the rest of the men who were standing frozen in horror. He pinned a terrified JD with a glare and said softly, "Tell me exactly what happened."  
  
JD stared at him, white-faced, and resolutely refusing to look down, launched into a stuttering account of everything that had happened. Aaron listened silently until JD dwindled to a close. He looked over at Bodie, "Go get some of our people." He waited while Bodie hurried off and then turned back to the Cartwrights, "You're going to help my men track down these people and you're going to do it quickly and quietly. I want the Dzurick children. I don't care if you kill the others so long as you don't make any noise." He stared at the group, "If you try to run off, I will hunt you down one by one and you'll wish you'd died as quickly as this stupid bastard."  
  
Bodie came back at a run with two men and a woman. Aaron looked at him, "Got your comm units?" They nodded. "Okay, take these guys along and find the Dzuricks. You have one hour." He pointed at JD, "You stay here, we're going to see the boss and you can explain just how badly you screwed up." JD began to look slightly green.  
  
"Aaron," Bodie spoke up. "What about this guy?" He pointed at the Cartwright that'd been wounded. Aaron looked at him and shrugged slightly. Bodie nodded and directed a look at his three people. The woman stepped close to the man, who was now staring wide-eyed at Aaron and a moment later, he collapsed on the ground. She leaned down, wiped the blood off her knife using his shirt and then re-sheathed it. Stepping back, she stood and waited soundlessly. Bodie gestured sharply at the remaining shocked Cartwrights, "Let's go. You three will take point." He looked back at Aaron, "One hour."   
  
El stayed very still and promised herself she wouldn't cry.  
  
*******  
Harm and Mac stopped for a moment when they heard a faint, muffled shot reverberate in the distance. He glanced down at her, "Sounded like a pistol. Doesn't seem to be that close."  
  
Mac nodded and then tried not to wince, "Back by the barn? Maybe they've taken to shooting each other." She was moving somewhat easier now. All the little aches seemed to be dissipating... or perhaps, consolidating was a better word. The pain was settling into three areas: her back, her neck and her left shoulder.  
  
Harm smiled grimly, "We should be so lucky." They were making better time than he had hoped but they still weren't far enough away. He was certain that there would be pursuit - these people couldn't afford not to. Harm was also becoming troubled about Tyler's absence and he knew Mac was worried. Now would be a good time for Pick to make a reappearance, they needed his skills to watch their backtrail.  
  
They resumed walking. Harm had shifted his arm from around Mac's waist to under her elbow. She was handling her own weight but he knew that her neck and probably her back were bothering her. Having witnessed the fall, he was just grateful she hadn't broken either one. It only took a few minutes to fill Mac in on the events at Windswept. The debate about what to do would take a little longer. They needed to contact the authorities, both the Feds and the local cops, and let them know it was a hostage situation. That was another reason they needed to find Tyler, Mac's cell phone had also gone MIA. Now they were moving mostly in silence, Harm was concentrating on their backtrail, Mac was watching her feet.  
  
They stopped suddenly when Nicky came swiftly towards them out of the trees to the right. The siblings had been ranging in front of the JAG officers, being careful to stay close to cover and within shouting distance.  
  
"Commander! Colonel! You have to come quick! It's Miz Parker and Pick!" He wheeled Alcazar around and hurried into the woods once more.  
  
"Nicky! Wait!" Harm hissed in a low, intense voice, "Goddammit!"  
  
"Harm, go," Mac said firmly. "I can catch up on my own. Whatever's going on can't be that far away."  
  
"You sure?" Harm eyed her dubiously.  
  
Mac gave him an exasperated look, "Go. I'll be right behind you." With one last look, Harm hurried off the way Nicky had gone. Mac gritted her teeth and did her best to hurry, too. She was willing to bet that whatever it was that had Nicky in an uproar probably wasn't good. It was several long minutes before she cleared the narrow span of trees. What Mac saw made her pick up her pace, even as each stride made her wince that much more.  
  
Both Nicky and Cat were dismounted. Cat had the reins of Calypso, Jack and Brazos. Nicky was holding Alcazar and Gallant, the bay gelding Liz had been riding the day before. Harm and Pick were crouched on either side of a prone figure and Mac knew, with a sinking feeling, that it had to be Liz Parker.  
  
At least she was alive, Mac knew that that would be the only reason why Pick hadn't left her. The questions were how badly was she hurt and how to get medical help. Mac came up beside Harm and rested a hand on his shoulder. "How is she?"  
  
He covered her hand briefly with his own, "If you can call getting shot in the back lucky, then she probably owns the world's largest collection of four-leaf clovers. She didn't go into shock and she hasn't bled to death. It looks like the bullet hit just under the right shoulder blade and came out by the collarbone." Harm glanced over at Tyler, "From what Pick says, it looks like she landed on her side and her body weight actually compressed the wounds and stopped the bleeding."  
  
Mac whistled softly, "Someone was watching over her. Has she been awake at all?"  
  
"Fits and starts, ma'am," Pick answered. "I did what I could with that little first aid kit I carry, but it wasn't meant for something like this."  
  
Harm looked around, "We can't stay here. We need to get her and the kids somewhere safe and call in the authorities and paramedics." He looked at Pick, "How far are we from Windswept's property line?"  
  
Pick glanced over his shoulder, "A quarter mile to the west, give or take a bit. There aren't any gates along the fenceline," he warned. "It's post and board with woven wire tacked on the inside. The Parkers own the property on the other side. I think it's at least another quarter mile to their house. If you want to get her off Windswept entirely, then the main entrance is our best bet." He looked back down at Liz, "Do you think we can move her safely?"  
  
"No choice," Harm replied, "It's definitely not safe around here." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, "The question is how?" He and Pick were the only ones strong enough to carry her but they were also the group's main protection. He couldn't afford for either of them to be encumbered.  
  
"Sir?" Cat raised a hand, "What if I take her on Brazos? That way the Colonel can ride Jack and Nicky can lead Calypso for me."  
  
Harm looked at her thoughtfully, what she suggested could work with the added bonus of positioning Mac for a fast escape should things go sour. Moving Liz on horseback couldn't be any worse than he and Pick trying it. He turned a carefully neutral face to Mac, "That might be the best way. What do you think?"  
  
Mac eyed him suspiciously. He had agreed far too readily for someone who'd just seen his fears about her riding justified. "Fine, so long as you don't think I'll ride quietly off into the sunset and leave you and Pick to deal these people alone." She looked over at Cat, "What about Gallant?"  
  
Cat shrugged, "Take off the bridle and saddle and turn him loose. This is the winter pasture, it's not in use right now." She stopped abruptly as another thought occurred to her.  
  
"What?" Mac prompted her.  
  
"Well, he might wind up following us anyway," Cat said apologetically. "Horses are herd animals. They don't like being left alone."  
  
"So we'll let him tag along," Harm cut in. "We need to get going." He looked over at Mac, "How long have we been moving?"  
  
"From when you joined us in the clearing? Eighteen minutes."   
  
Harm thought for a moment, "How long since we heard that pistol shot?"  
  
"Seven minutes." Mac frowned at him, "What? You think they fired off a starting gun for the pursuit?"  
  
"Maybe," Harm answered. He looked at Cat, "It was the Cartwrights that tried to grab you?"  
  
Cat nodded, "I recognized some of them. They're JD's brothers and cousins, I think."  
  
Harm looked back at Mac, "I doubt those guys masterminded any of this, which means they were hired as muscle."  
  
"And having us escape probably didn't sit well with their employers. You think they killed one of them as an example about failure?" Mac questioned somewhat skeptically. "I would think that would make the rest of them bolt. I assume they were just in it for the money."  
  
"But what if running out was worse than staying in?" Harm countered. "The stakes are pretty high for these people, it wouldn't surprise me if they promised retribution for anyone who crossed them."  
  
Mac started to nod and thought better of it, "Well, if you're right, that means one less bad guy to deal with."  
  
"Maybe two," Harm replied. "I think I might have hit one of them while I was covering your escape."  
  
He motioned for Cat to mount Brazos while he bent down to gather Liz up in his arms. They could continue to talk while they moved. Pick stepped in to help and together they got Liz up in front of Cat. Once those two were situated, Mac moved over to Jack and Nicky gave her a leg up. She suppressed a groan and then gave the young man a grateful smile. Nicky grinned in return and then hurriedly stripped Gallant of his tack before turning back to mount Alcazar. Pick reached up and handed Calypso's reins to him.  
  
Tyler looked over at Harm and then Mac, "We need to head north and east for the main gate." He pointed, "Nicky knows where all the pasture gates are, we have to get through two before we reach the entrance to Windswept. The last hundred yards will be down the main driveway and there's no cover for a hundred yards before that. It could get hairy if anyone catches up with us." He looked back at the two officers, "You want me to scout behind and see who's there?"  
  
Harm nodded, "Yeah, and for godsakes, don't let them see you."  
  
Pick grinned, "Don't worry, I won't." He popped to attention, "Sir, ma'am. Permission to skulk?"  
  
Mac rolled her eyes from her perch aboard Jack, "Go. Oh, but leave us your cell phone. We've managed to lose both of ours."  
  
"Yes ma'am," Pick dug into his pocket, handed the phone to Harm and then jogged back the way they'd come.  
  
Harm watched him disappear into the woods and then turned to his little group, "Let's go." 


	15. Part 15

Part 15  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1605 Local  
  
Bell looked over at Melissa Sue and saw her give her head a slight shake. He motioned for T and Maggie to stop what they were doing. The three halted their work on the removal of the hinge pins and sat quietly, waiting for an all-clear. If someone had told Tinker earlier that a cat would be responsible for their present escape plan, he would have thought they had one oar out of the water. However, it was true. The biggest stumbling block to any kind of break-out had been the position of the armed guard. Without any windows in the tackroom, there was no way to determine where he would be at any given time. Bell had been wracking his brain trying to work around the problem when in had strolled Eliza TooLittle, one of the barn cats. He'd been as shocked to see the petite little tabby as she apparently had been to see him. She'd turned all bottle-brushy and fled to the top tier of saddle racks where she could bathe and consider him at her leisure.  
  
None of the farm staff had been surprised; it turned out that they all knew of the cat-sized hole in the corner of the room. The barn was full of them to make it easier for the hunting of mice. No one had mentioned it because they all knew it was too small to be of any use. Until that is, Tink had informed them in a somewhat exasperated tone, that with a mirror placed just so in the cat door, they could track the movement of the guard. So now Melissa Sue was lying flat out on the floor with her compact mirror in hand, letting them know when it was safe to continue. She was joined in her efforts by the tiny Eliza, drawn from her perch by the sight of a human where one shouldn't be.   
  
They were all jumpy, except perhaps, the cat. There had been a sizable firefight about 10, 15 minutes ago. It wasn't that close but it was hard to tell for sure from inside the room. Tink knew that the Colonel and one of the Dzurick twins were out riding and had been due back. Tyler and Nicky didn't usually show before 1600. He assumed it was the Colonel and he thought they had gotten away, banking his hope on the tone of the conversation their guard had had with one of the other terrorists just outside the door. Judging from the anger and exasperation he'd heard, it sounded like they had escaped. Now he had to do the same.  
  
After several long minutes, Melissa Sue gave them a thumbs up and the three resumed their prying. Soon, two of the pins had been removed, leaving one partially out. Tinker gathered everyone together for a last run-through of what was going to happen. As soon as the guard had his back to the door, the last pin would be removed. T and Jake would pull the door open and Tink would take out the guard. Maggie and Tug would be waiting with lead ropes to tie the man up. Bell sent everyone to take up their positions and then they all focused their attention on Melissa Sue. Tension mounted as the minutes dragged on. Tink raised an eyebrow and Melissa Sue shrugged helplessly, giving her head another shake. Apparently, the guard had settled in a position where it would be impossible to get to him. Frustrated, Maggie moved over and dropped down next to the other woman, peering into the mirror. She sat up looking irritated and indicated that the guard was actually leaning against the wall of the tackroom, between the door and the cat portal. Eliza took advantage of the appearance of a lap, settling in quickly and purring.  
  
They all sat and looked at each other in dismayed silence, Maggie absently scratching the cat under the chin. Bell watched them and then his eyes narrowed. He caught Maggie's attention and pointing to the cat and then the cat door, mouthed the word 'diversion'. She brightened immediately and reaching behind her head, removed the hairtie from her ponytail. She dangled it in front of Eliza who quickly snagged it with a paw. Pulling it free, Maggie aimed the tie at a wall and shot it off like a rubberband. Eliza streaked after it, pouncing on it almost as soon as it hit the ground. She batted it around a little and then turned and looked at Maggie expectantly. Retrieving the band, Maggie moved over to the cat door. Eliza stayed right with her, eyes never leaving her quarry. Maggie looked back over her shoulder to see if everyone was in position. Jennie had taken her place with Tug and Bell gave her a thumbs up. Taking a deep breath, Maggie aimed carefully and let fly.  
  
Eliza shot out of the hole and a split second later, Melissa Sue shouted 'Go!' T pulled the last hinge pin out and he and Jake yanked the door open. Tink slid through as soon as there was enough opening, closing with the guard just as he began to spin back towards the tackroom door. Bell didn't waste any time with fancy moves, bringing one huge fist down on top of the man's head. He collapsed like a sack. Tink grabbed a fistful of shirt with one hand and the guard's weapon with the other and dragged him quickly into the tackroom. T went through the man's pockets and pulled out the padlock key in triumph. Jenni and Tug jumped in and soon the guard was laying on his stomach, hogtied. Maggie produced a leg wrap and gleefully used it to gag and blindfold the man. T and Jake dragged him to a corner and unceremoniously dropped a horse blanket over the slowly awakening guard.  
  
Quickly, they replaced the hinge pins, unlocked the padlock and pulled the door to, leaving it cracked just a little. Tink kept an eye out and gave the farm staff a few seconds to congratulate each other. Then he gathered them together to prepare for the next step. He was pretty sure they weren't going to like it. They milled around, excitedly expectant. Bell cleared his throat and then pointed to T and Maggie, "You two are in charge. Once I make sure it's clear, I want you to get everybody out of here and off the property." He held up a hand to silent the protests, "I know what we just did seemed pretty easy but the rest of it won't be. This is a para-military group which means they've had firearms training. We've only got the one weapon and I'm the only one trained to use it." He paused for a second, "Look, they didn't kill you outright because they wanted you as insurance... as hostages. Get off the property and take that advantage away from them. Contact the authorities and let them know what's going on. You're going to have to be careful, it's not going to be easy getting away unseen. Will you do it?"  
  
First Maggie, then T and then all the rest silently nodded their heads. Maggie put up a hand. "What are you going to do?"   
  
"After I get you guys on your way?" Tink asked. "I'll see if I can get to the house and find out what's going on there."  
  
They all looked at each other wide-eyed. "That's crazy, man," T said feelingly. "Why don't you wait until we can contact the cops? At least you'd have some back-up."  
  
Bell shook his head, "It's called recon. The cops aren't going to be able to do anything until they know what the situation is like. I'm going to provide that information." With a little luck, he'd also find out what happened to Colonel MacKenzie and Tyler. There was also the matter of Commander Rabb and D.E., were they trapped in the house or did they manage to escape? He briefly considered sending El out with the staff, but decided against it. She'd be safer remaining in hiding. He'd check on her on his way to the house.  
  
*******  
  
He pulled into the entrance of Windswept Farm and stopped for a moment, glancing at the dashboard clock. The operation was supposed to have begun at 3:00 and it was now a little after 4. He rolled down his window and listened carefully for a half a minute or so. The silence would be a good sign, indicating that the surprise attack had been complete, that there'd been no unforeseen problems. There were also no law enforcement officers anywhere around. He pulled out his cellphone. As much as he would like to appear without warning his useful American idiots, he had no desire to be shot by them. He would just make sure that they didn't tell the King and Queen he was here before he could make his grand entrance.  
  
He smiled in anticipation. The American revolutionaries might be surprised to know he was here, the Dzuricks would be shocked. That in itself made it worth the risk. Rolling up the window, he put the car into gear and headed up the long driveway.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1615 Local  
  
Harm kept everyone moving away from the place where they had found Liz. After 5 minutes, he called a halt and pulled out the cellphone. "Time to call in the cavalry," he said, glancing up at Mac and then over to Cat. Liz was leaning back against her. As Pick had mentioned earlier, she was drifting in and out. Fortunately, she was remaining passive - had Liz started struggling, Harm wasn't sure if Cat could have kept either one of them in the saddle.  
  
He moved a little away and punched in 911. When the operator came on the line, he said quietly, "This is Commander Harmon Rabb. It's a hostage situation at Windswept Farm, the Montgomery place. I need a SWAT team and paramedics - we have casualties. I also need the FBI field office informed of what's going on. Is Detective Wainwright there?" Harm listened quietly as the operator repeated what he'd said back to him and then asked him to wait while she set things in motion. Thank God at least one thing was going right. He'd have bet money that bureaucratic snafus would have reared their ugly heads about now, delaying any sort of help.  
  
Harm frowned when he glanced up and saw Mac dismounting and moving stiffly towards him. "What are you doing?"  
  
Mac gave him a look that clearly said he was on thin ice and then said, "Have you called Clay yet?"  
  
He shook his head, "I'm on hold right now while they get Detective Wainwright on the line." Harm held up a hand suddenly and listened, "Yes, I'm here. Everything hit the fan about 45-50 minutes ago." He glanced over at Mac and saw her give a confirming nod. Listening again for a moment, he said, "At least 11, probably no more than 20." There was another pause, he turned slightly, carefully not looking at Mac, "Myself and Lt. Tyler. I'm not sure about Cpl. Bell. He wasn't in the house. We have two of the Dzurick children with us. ... Uh-huh, okay. Thanks, Detective." He ended the call and mentally braced himself as he turned back to Mac.  
  
The glare she leveled at him could have incinerated half of D.C., "Don't think for one damn minute about excluding me. If you and Pick are going back in, so am I."  
  
"Mac, be reasonable. You can hardly move," Harm argued quietly. "Besides, someone has to stay with the kids until the cops get here."  
  
"So you're planning on going back in before any sort of support arrives? Just you and Pick? Exactly how reasonable is that?" Mac hissed, keeping her voice down as well.  
  
"It's the time factor and you know it," Harm shot back. He was beginning to feel a little heated himself, damn stubborn woman! "The faster the cops can get into position, the better. That means someone needs to scout ahead."  
  
"And your training as a naval fighter pilot qualifies you for recon? For godsakes, Harm, I'm better at it and I've actually been over the ground before!" Damn stubborn man!  
  
"That still doesn't get around the fact that you're injured! Swallow that goddamn Marine pride and listen to common sense! I don't need a babysitter - you can't keep up, you'll wind up getting us all killed!" Harm regretted the words as soon as he said them. The one anchor in her life was the Corps and he'd just taken a shot at her professionally.  
  
She stared at him silently, her face a frozen mask. "Mac... ," Harm took a step towards her and she immediately backed up.   
  
He stopped in frustration and started to open his mouth again only to have her cut him off. "Call Clay," she said in flat tone and then turned back to the horses. A crashing in the underbrush made them both pivot and draw their sidearms. Harm was chagrined to note that Mac was only a second behind him, maybe he had misjudged her condition. Pick burst into the small clearing a moment later.  
  
He gestured towards the west, "Move! We're being cut off!"  
  
Mac spun towards Cat and Nicky, motioning for the prince to take Jack with him, "Go! We'll find you later." She turned back to Pick, "Where?"  
  
Pick swept his arm in a wide arc eastward while he gulped in air, "Seven altogether, split into two groups. One went straight to the main gate and is working back, the other is coming up from the south."  
  
"Who's closest and how many?" Harm jumped in.  
  
"Four from the gate, three from the south," he shook his head, "I don't know who's closest right now."  
  
Harm and Mac looked at each other. "South, first," Harm said. Mac nodded in agreement.  
  
She pointed at the two men, "You two take care of the first group. I'll stay in this area and warn you if the second shows up." Mac shot a glare at Harm as if daring him to say something.  
  
He wisely kept silent although it didn't stop him from sending up a fervent prayer that the second group didn't reach their position until they had dealt with the other. If they could ambush the first group and take them without shooting, chances were good they could surprise the second group as well.  
  
Harm gave a curt nod and then couldn't help himself, "Be careful."  
  
"You, too." She remained expressionless as he followed Pick into the underbrush. After they had disappeared, she let the pain wash across her features. This time it wasn't just from her protesting muscles. What Harm had said hurt almost as much as the fall she'd taken. Did he really think she'd compromise his safety and that of the others because she was too proud to admit she couldn't handle it? Mac knew she could be willfully stubborn but had never let it progress into foolhardiness... at least not in her capacity as a Marine officer. Any risk that she had taken was usually calculated. Anger began to bubble up, how dare he question her professionalism!  
  
Resolutely, she forced the emotions down, they were distracting and therefore, deadly. Looking around the clearing, she headed for the southwest corner where the ground sloped gently upward. It wouldn't be much of an advantage but she'd take what she could get. She found two large trees growing close together, not far from the edge of the clearing, that would give her a fairly decent field of fire. Working as quickly as she could, Mac dragged several branches over and laid them between the trees. Again, it wasn't much but it would have to do.  
  
She settled in and waited, her eyes constantly sweeping the area around her. Logic dictated that their adversaries would stick to the trees, much as they had done, and if that was the case, they would pass pretty close. Hopefully, it wouldn't be right on top of her. The woods of Windswept were not particularly dense, usually not much wider than 50 or 60 yards at most. The minutes crept slowly by and she tried to visualize how much ground Harm and Pick could cover.  
  
A slight movement caught her eye and she froze, scarcely daring to breathe. A man stepped out into the clearing, carefully scanning in all directions before once more focusing on the ground. Mac tightened her grip on her pistol, it was one of the Cartwrights. He started to move in a zigzag pattern when a second Cartwright joined him, farther down the clearing. He, too, started to move from side to side and Mac's eyes narrowed when she realized they were looking for fresh tracks. It wouldn't be long before they came across the hoofprints. Slowly and cautiously, she turned her head to sweep the area around her. Where were the other two?  
  
Her attention was dragged back to the clearing when one of the men gave a soft cry. She was positive that her heart stopped in shock when a woman rose out of the underbrush less than 10 feet away and hurried over to the man. Son of a bitch! These people were good! A fourth man showed up on the far side of the clearing. They congregated in a loose group, the man who had called out was gesturing the way Nicky and Cat had gone. Mac saw that the fourth man and the woman kept a constant watch on their surroundings. This wasn't going to be easy.  
  
The entire tableau froze for a brief second when a single gunshot rang out to the south. After that, everything seemed to rush forward. The four split up, spreading out in an inverted arc. Even as she sent out a prayer that Harm and Pick were all right, Mac noted with interest that the Cartwrights were almost being herded by the other two. That made it easier to determine a target as she sighted in on the woman and squeezed the trigger.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1610 Local  
  
Nash stared at the cellphone in disbelief. The man was here! Coming up the driveway at this very moment. He was about to look like an incompetent idiot in front of someone he desperately wanted to impress. Someone who could have given his group international legitimacy. He raised a murderous glare at Aaron and the pasty-faced redneck. "You let them get away?" he asked softly.  
  
Aaron flinched in spite of himself, he knew what Nash was capable of when he used that tone. Hurriedly, he tried to contain the damage, "They couldn't have gotten too far. That cousin of theirs had a pretty bad fall when they jumped the pasture fence. She'll slow them down."  
  
Behind Nash, Carol exchanged a glance with Gheorghe. If Cat had tried to get the Colonel and Jack to jump into the pasture, chances were that Mac was badly hurt. What Carol couldn't understand was how they managed to escape.  
  
Nash, evidently, was wondering the same thing. "You mean one of them fell off and you still couldn't catch either one? What the hell happened?!" He stared for a long moment at a quivering JD Cartwright and then rounded on Aaron, "And it's colonel, not cousin, dammit! She's a goddamn Marine officer! How did they get away?! It sounded like World War III out there!"   
  
Aaron stared pointedly at JD, "According to him, someone was shooting at them. Kept them pinned down until the women got away." There was no way he was going to bring up the rescue efforts of Gheorghe's son and his bodyguard. That four people escaped and not just two would probably push Nash right over the edge he was already teetering on.   
  
"Someone was shooting at them? Some one?" Nash whirled back to JD, "And there were six of you shooting back? You alerted everyone within earshot that something unusual was happening on this farm and we have absolutely nothing to show for it?!" He scooped up a lamp and heaved it at JD who yelped and ducked. Nash was on him in an instant, wrapping the lamp cord around his neck and pulling. JD struggled and beat ineffectually at Nash's hands before finally going limp. Nash continued to strangle the young man for another long minute while his captives watched in horror. Mo buried her face in her father's chest.  
  
Nash slowly rose from the body and turned towards one of the guards. "Dump that out back." He stalked up to his white-faced lieutenant and said in a low, intense voice, "Tell me that you're rectifying this embarrassing situation and then go kill the rest of that worthless family."  
  
Aaron nodded rapidly, "I've already taken care of two of them. Bodie took the last three along with Johnny, Teresa and Wiley. He promised to bring the Dzuricks in within the hour. I told him he could do what he wanted with any of the others so long as he did it quietly." He paused anxiously, hoping this would appease his volatile leader, and then hurried on, "They've got their comm units on, I talked with Bodie a few minutes ago. He's picked up their trail and he thinks they're trying to get to the main gate. He's going to split his group and send half to the entrance and have them work back in while he continues following. They'll be caught in a crossfire."  
  
"What about the unknown gunman?" Nash was calming down as he tried to figure the best possible spin on the situation. Their employer would be here any moment.  
  
Relaxing slightly, Aaron replied, "Apparently, he's joined the women."  
  
"Good, good, that should be his last mistake," Nash smiled thinking about it. Bodie was proving to be quite an asset, he'd have to promote the man after this operation was complete. He swept his gaze around the room and found Karen watching him silently. She looked vaguely annoyed. "What?"  
  
She pushed herself off the window sill where she had been perched and walked over to him. Karen had been with him longer than any of the others and was the only one unafraid of telling him the plain, unvarnished truth. Folding her arms, she glanced at Aaron and then focused on Nash. Keeping her voice low, she said, "I think we should cut our losses and get out of here. Our timetable's blown and this whole gig is unraveling. Torch the house and barns and we can slip out during the confusion."  
  
Nash stared at her, "It's not out of control just yet." He glanced around and lowered his voice, "Besides, our employer is here. He should be driving up any time now. If we can pull this off, it'll mean global exposure and financing! I think it's worth the risk."  
  
Karen regarded him steadily, "Nash, look around, right now we only have half the family here. Bodie's still chasing down one daughter." She shot a dark look at Aaron, "Has the son ever shown up? Is he even on the property any more? You think that bodyguard can't put two and two together after hearing the gunfire? He'd be an idiot not to get the prince away from here. And what about the youngest? No one's seen or heard where she might be since this whole operation started. We're not going to get paid for half a job!"  
  
"Half a job?" The voice came softly from the entryhall.   
  
*******  
  
Bell moved silently up the aisle, trailed by Maggie and T. They had insisted on accompanying him on the search for any additional guards. He'd said no, of course, and Maggie had calmly informed him that they would follow along anyway and wouldn't it be better if they all just worked together? There'd been nothing he could do about it, so he had agreed, although he did get their promise to stay behind him. Maggie was beginning to intrigue him. He admired her quiet courage and steadfast nature. She was tall and thin and almost flat-chested enough to pass for a boy, but moved with an innate grace that Bell was starting to find fascinating. He decided that T was a lucky man.  
  
Reaching a corner, he flattened himself out and cautiously peered around. With a grimace, he pulled back quickly. They had found another guard. He crouched down and motioned T and Maggie to take cover in one of the stalls. Hopefully, this guy would surrender without firing. They couldn't afford any noise that would draw attention to the barns. He risked one more quick look, the guard was less than 45 feet away now. He glanced back to make sure his two shadows were out of sight and then scowled in annoyance. Neither had moved. He jabbed a finger past them and angrily mouthed, 'Go!'  
  
T actually backed up a step, but Maggie just looked at Tink and asked silently, 'Close?'  
  
Tink nodded emphatically and once again pointed down the aisle. To his consternation, Maggie rose and pulled a halter and lead off a stall door. Slinging it over her shoulder, she flashed Bell a smile and sauntered up the corridor. She was halfway across the aisle opening when they heard the guard shout 'Stop!'  
  
Maggie came to a halt and turned, looking at the fast-approaching guard with wide eyes, "Who're you?" Despite his shock at her actions, Bell noted with approval that she had placed herself so that the guard would have his back to them.  
  
The man stopped in front of her, "Never mind that, how did you get out of the tackroom?"  
  
She looked at him in confusion, "The tackroom? I just got back from the weanling pasture." Maggie glanced around the barn, "Are you a security guard? Where is everybody? Did Mr. Montgomery give everyone the rest of the day off?"  
  
"Sort of, come with me," he lowered his rifle and grabbed her by the arm, deciding she wasn't much of a threat.   
  
Maggie braced her feet, "Wait a minute, go where? I've still got work to do."  
  
"To... umm... to see Mr. Montgomery," the guard said. If he could get her to come with him quietly, so much the better. He hated dealing with weepy, hysterical women - or worse - angry, hysterical women. The guard never heard Tink's approach. A moment later, he lay in a heap on the ground.  
  
Bell looked at Maggie in exasperation, "Don't ever do that again! He might have shot first and then asked questions!" He gestured T over to give him a hand. His back was beginning to protest all the activity.  
  
Maggie eyed him complacently, "This was better than having you jump out at him and hoping he'd roll over and surrender. Besides, you guys never take unarmed women seriously."  
  
Tink stared at her for a moment and then slowly bent down to give T a hand. "You've obviously never met Colonel MacKenzie," he grumbled under his breath.   
  
She had better hearing than he thought, "Let me guess, Colonel MacKenzie is a paragon of political correctness? Some of his best friends are women?"  
  
Bell tugged at the knots T had made, making sure they were secure. He looked at the two, "We need something to gag him with."   
  
Maggie pointed at a nearby stall door, "There are some leg wraps in that wire dispenser." She followed along as Tink and T dragged the man to the stall. Folding her arms, while T grabbed a wrap and began to gag and blindfold the guard, she stared at Bell, "What's so special about this Colonel? Is he your boss?"  
  
Tink glanced over at her while he waited for T to finish, "Colonel MacKenzie is a she, not a he, and I can't think of anyone I would take more seriously, armed or not. I worked with her on an investigation when she came to my base in Memphis." T stood up just then and together, they dragged the trussed-up man into the stall and bolted the door. Bell unslung the weapon he'd taken from this guard and held it out, "Which of you is the better shot?"  
  
Neither of them raised a hand, T looked uncomfortable and Maggie had an unreadable look on her face. Tink sighed, he didn't have time for this, "All right, which of you has actually fired a gun?" He glanced around nervously, they had spent too much time in one place as it was. He needed to secure the area and get the staff on its way. T raised a tentative hand and Tink thrust the weapon at him and pivoted quickly. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he did it. The pain in his back flared and suddenly his legs refused to cooperate. He was on his hands and knees before he knew it.  
  
Tink kept his eyes closed while equilibrium reasserted itself. He felt like an idiot. He heard T and Maggie drop down on either side of him and then T's anxious voice, "Man, are you all right? What happened?"  
  
Maggie had a hand on his shoulder, "Tom?"  
  
She sounded worried and a bit scared and the touch of her hand was sending a little thrill through him. 'Stop it,' he told himself firmly, 'she's got a boyfriend already.' Besides, women like her were rarely interested in men like him. He climbed to his feet with T and Maggie holding on to each arm. He waited until he'd steadied a bit and then cast a quick look around, "C'mon, we need to keep moving."  
  
T nodded and picked up his weapon but Maggie wouldn't let go of his arm. "Not until you tell me what just happened."  
  
"You might as well tell her," T looked sympathetically at Bell. "Otherwise, we'll be here 'til doomsday. She's worse than a Missouri mule." He was curious himself but had no intention of pushing the issue with the big man. He suspected Bell's patience ran a lot shorter with guys.  
  
Tink sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I was shot in the back about 6 weeks ago. The bullet was close enough to the spine to cause me to lose the use of my legs. Obviously, it wasn't permanent but I still have problems if I overdo things."  
  
Maggie stared at him, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in a hospital or something?"  
  
"I'm on medical leave. I was visiting with Lt. Tyler when he got his orders to come here and assist the Colonel and Cmdr. Rabb and I invited myself along." Bell started walking, they were wasting precious time.  
  
The two hurried after him. Maggie had one more question, "Colonel MacKenzie is here?"  
  
"Yes," he said shortly. He was standing just inside the main doors, carefully scanning the area behind the barn. It looked clear. Bell glanced over his shoulder, "You were probably told she was a royal cousin." He turned around and headed back towards the tackroom. He had to get these people out of here.  
  
"Whoa, dude. That hot-looking babe was a Marine colonel? Where do I sign up?" T's grin faded abruptly at the glare he got from Tink. "Hey, no offense. It's just that, well... wow! ... Y'know?"  
  
Tink gave a non-committal grunt and kept moving. Soon they were back at the tackroom. Sending T to the front entrance to make sure no one was coming in, Bell gathered everyone together and told them what they'd have to do. Waving T back in, he placed the young man as a rearguard and took the lead. It only took a couple of minutes to get everyone to the back of the barn. Bell pointed out the route for them to take and told them to go through the clear areas in groups of two or three. He took up a position that gave him the best view and motioned for them to start moving. Tink tried to look everywhere at once as the little band made their escape in fits and starts. Five minutes later, T waved a final goodbye before disappearing behind a small rise. With a sigh of relief, Bell turned back into the barn. He would check on El and then head for the house.  
  
A slight movement in the shadows on the opposite side of the aisle had him flattened against the doors with the rifle up to his shoulder. "Come out," he said in a low, threatening rumble. Tink lowered his weapon as his eyes widened in surprise.  
  
Maggie moved further out of the shadows with her hands still up in the air. "I'm staying with you," was all she said.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1620 Local  
  
Harm eased further back into the underbrush and waited for Pick. These people weren't slouches at woodcraft but Tyler was still better. There was nothing like playing cat and mouse with some wacko militia to hone your stalking skills, he thought wryly. Pick had spotted them early on and they had retreated along their quarry's probable path to set up their ambush. The young lieutenant had the more difficult task of getting behind them, so Harm was waiting for him to initiate their attack.   
  
He mentally crossed his fingers that they could pull this off without firing a shot. He was worried about Mac. She would make sure that the second group had to deal with her before they reached his position. He was still kicking himself over his earlier comment. Life could truly be perverse. All he'd been trying to accomplish was to keep Mac out of any further danger. Now, because he'd gotten ticked at her mule-headedness, she was in potentially greater danger and she was in it alone.  
  
The sound of leaves rustling brought him back to the present. He tightened his grip on the rifle as three men slowly crept into view. Any time now...  
  
"Freeze!" Pick's voice rang out behind them and as the trio crouched and spun, Harm stood up from his hiding place.  
  
"Don't move!" The men froze, caught front and back. Harm gestured with the rifle, "Drop your weapons and step away." He waited for them to comply and then gestured again, "On your knees, hands behind your head." Once they were down, he nodded and Pick came out from behind a tree, "Gather the weapons, Lieutenant," Harm ordered, keeping his eye on the group.  
  
Tyler holstered his pistol and came forward, picking up the rifles. He had two tucked under one arm and was picking up the third when the last man lunged to his feet and threw himself at the Lieutenant. Pick only managed to turn halfway before the man hit him, taking them both down. Harm caught the bright flash of steel as he shifted anxiously, looking for a clear shot. With a threatening wave of the rifle, he kept the others where they were while he maneuvered around the struggling men. A strangled cry from Pick made his gut clench and then he saw his opening. In less than a heartbeat, Harm aimed and fired, hitting the man in the head and knocking him off Tyler. He was dead before he hit the ground.  
  
Harm hurried over and knelt down next to the softly groaning Lieutenant, "How bad?" A murderous look at the two remaining men kept them frozen in place.  
  
"Hurts like hell, sir, but I think I'll live," Pick said through gritted teeth. He gave Harm an anxious look, "The other group... "  
  
"I know, I know," Harm replied, "We don't have much time. Can you hang on a little longer?" Tyler nodded and Harm stood up, gesturing for the two men to rise also. "I'll give you both 45 seconds to strip down. After that, I start shooting." They obeyed with alacrity and in less than a minute, both were standing there buck-naked, hands in the air. The sound of a pistolshot made Harm start to swear and a few moments later, the gunfire began to escalate. The two men stared at him fearfully, not knowing if he would just start shooting. He jerked his head at them, "Turn around and go wrap your arms around those trees behind you. Move after that and I'll kill you both." Satisfied they were too scared to try anything, he knelt down and began quickly removing the laces from their boots. Listening to the sound of the firefight rise and ebb made him work even more frantically. When the shooting suddenly stopped, he thought his heart would also. 


	16. Part 16

Part 16  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1615 Local  
  
Nash spun towards the entryhall at the sound of the voice. He reached out and yanked Aaron close, "Contact Bodie and if he's hasn't gotten the daughter, tell him he'd better in the next 15 minutes." Leveling a glare at Karen, he strode out of the room. Finally, he was going to meet their employer face to face. Walking into the entryhall, he stopped in surprise. Nash wasn't quite sure what he expected the man to look like but this wasn't it. The dark-haired young man standing impatiently in front of him didn't look much older than Aaron.   
  
Lucian Valter stared at Nash. "Half a job?" he repeated in a deadly, quiet tone.  
  
Recovering himself, Nash assumed the confident posture he used when talking to his troops, "The first half of the job has been completed." He made a show of consulting his watch, "The second half is wrapping up even as we speak. Everything's going according to plan." He decided that the man hadn't heard the firefight. With a little luck, he could stall until everything was back on track. The continued absence of the police or even the sound of sirens in the distance convinced him that they had caught a break. No one had reported the gunfire on Windswept.  
  
Lucian swept a hand through his hair while he considered Nash's words. The man himself was not that impressive. Average build with receding sandy brown hair, he would never arouse a second look. That made him perfect for his chosen occupation, Lucian decided. What he couldn't decide was whether or not to stay for the coup de grace. His desire to show Gheorghe just how badly he had failed his people by consorting with the Americans was at war with his sense of preservation.  
  
"Who are you holding?" Valter asked at last.  
  
"The King and Queen, one of the twins, Natalya, the Queen's parents and older brother, their head of security, the housekeeper, her husband, the cook and one over-the-hill FBI agent." Nash smiled while mentally crossing his fingers that this would pacify their employer.  
  
"Where are the rest of the children?" Damn, arrogant Americans! Only half of their objective obtained and here was their leader, smiling like this was an accomplishment.  
  
Nash took a deep breath and began boldly embroidering, "The other twin and her brother were out riding. One of my men has a patrol after them. He's got them cornered, so he should be starting back any time now." He hesitated for a moment and then decided a little half-truth would make his exaggerations more plausible. "The youngest is hiding, either here or in the barn. I have people searching now. She can't get away."  
  
Lucian gaze narrowed, "What about the American military officers? Rabb and MacKenzie?"  
  
For just a moment, Nash was at a loss, then he chuckled, "Taken care of. I told my men they could have a little fun with MacKenzie before they killed her." Son of a bitch! Rabb must have been the shooter when the Colonel and the Princess escaped. Where the hell had he'd been when they came in? The Commander couldn't have been hanging out in that particular section of woods just waiting for something to happen. He must have been somewhere where he'd seen what going on and still had an avenue of escape. Nash debated briefly about having Aaron warn Bodie and then decided against it. They knew there was a shooter out there, who it was really didn't matter.  
  
Valter smiled. He wouldn't mind partaking in the humiliation and degradation of the Marine colonel before she died. He would enjoy making sure that she understood why women had no place in anyone's military. The question was whether he had time to indulge himself. It was so very tempting... He looked at Nash with a feral gleam in his eye, "Contact your men and tell them not to kill the Colonel yet. Have them bring her here."  
  
Nash froze, he'd just been caught in a lie. Goddammit! This could all be laid at the feet of those incompetent hillbillies. Once they got through this operation, he'd hunt down every last living relation of the Cartwrights and kill them all. They didn't deserve to be on this earth. He managed a smile, "Of course. I'll have Aaron relay the message. It might take a little while, I don't think MacKenzie is in any shape to move quickly any more."  
  
Lucian's eyes turned cold, "I don't have time to waste. Tell them to drag her if she can't keep up."  
  
Nash nodded slowly, now what? He'd have Aaron get in touch with Bodie and tell him to make sure he killed both officers as soon as he found them. Then he'd make his apologies to this cold-blooded SOB and tell him the woman had been killed trying to escape. That should get him off the hook. It was time to stall again. He raised an eyebrow at Valter, "Do you want to say hello to their Majesties while I take care of this?"  
  
Valter looked at him with hooded eyes for a long moment and then shrugged, "Why not? We can speculate on whereabouts of Christina Elena. Perhaps I can persuade them to suggest where we might look."  
  
*******  
  
Tink stared at Maggie, "Are you out of your mind?" He glanced out the door, trying to decide if it was too late for her to catch up with the group.  
  
Maggie folded her arms, "Possibly. Considering what you're planning to do, I thought I'd fit right in."  
  
He grabbed her by an elbow and pulled them both into a doorway, "This isn't a joke and I'm doing it because I have to, it's my job."  
  
Maggie stared up at him, "Do I look like I'm laughing? You seem like a pretty bright guy, why are you being stupid about this?"  
  
Tink clenched his jaw. She was being absolutely infuriating. "You're a civilian. You have no training. I can't watch out for both of us and still do what I have to do." Normally, all he had to do was scowl and people fled. Maggie was proving to be impervious to his obvious displeasure.  
  
"How much training does it require to watch for bad guys and say 'hey, look out'? I seriously doubt that the military encourages you to get killed just because you weren't issued eyes in the back of your head." She leaned out and scanned the aisle in both directions and then grabbed an arm and pulled. "All clear. Let's go, big man."  
  
He stood there, unmoving, "Why are you doing this?"  
  
She put her hands on her hips and eyed him in disbelief, "Why do you think?" He continued to stare at her in silence and she rolled her eyes, "Do I have to pass you a note in study hall? I... like... you. Can we go now? Don't you have heroic, military-like things to do?"  
  
Tink knew he was wasting time but he couldn't help himself, "What about T?"  
  
Maggie stared at him in confusion, "What about him?"  
  
Bell was horrified to hear himself stuttering, "Well, aren't you... I mean... isn't he... "  
  
To his immense relief, she didn't start laughing at him, "We're friends, nothing more." She tilted her head and smiled, "We did try dating once. It was like kissing my little brother." Her smile grew wider, "T compared it to kissing his Aunt Mazy." She arched an eyebrow, "Once we're officially a couple, you have my permission to tell him exactly why I'm not Aunt Mazy." She turned around and strode up the corridor.  
  
Tink stared her retreating back and then, giving himself a shake, hurried after. Catching up, he carefully placed her behind him. "I go first," he said in his low rumble. He half-expected an argument but Maggie just nodded. Quickly, he made his way to the smaller, private barn. After checking to make sure it was clear, he directed Maggie to go to the doorway and keep watch. He stopped in front of the stack of shaving bales. "El, honey? It's Tink. Are you okay?" There was no answer. "El?" Tink was growing more nervous. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to the little girl.  
  
"Tom?" Something in Maggie's tone made the hair rise on the back of his neck. Dear God, what if... ? He hurried over to her. She pointed out the door just to the left of the building, looking slightly green.   
  
Bell peered out and saw the bodies of two men. Relieved that it wasn't El, he turned to Maggie, "Do you know who they are?"  
  
She nodded, still looking at them, "JD's brother and one of his cousins. Anybody who's been at Windswept for any length of time has probably had a run-in with them. I've never liked any of them but this... " She finally looked at Bell, "I don't understand. Weren't they working for the other side?"  
  
Tink swept his gaze around the area while pulling her deeper into the barn. "I'm sorry you saw that." He looked up and down the barn aisle, still somewhat preoccupied with his own dilemma, where was El? Glancing back down at Maggie, he answered her last question, "Yes, they did. I think they were supposed to bring in Cat and Colonel MacKenzie but they screwed up. Those two were probably executed as an example of what failure brings." He continued to look around the barn, El had to be hiding somewhere... Tink paused when his gaze passed by Henri's stall.   
  
He strode over to the stalldoor with Maggie trailing behind. Stopping, he said very quietly, "El?" He heard Maggie's intake of breath as she realized who he was looking for. There was silence for a few long seconds and then El's tear-stained face appeared. He opened the stall door and El threw herself into his embrace. Finally, she leaned back and looked up at him, "I saw him, Tinker. I saw the traitor. He's here now. It's Daddy's assistant, Lucian Valter!"  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1625 Local  
  
The woman gave a sharp cry and fell, clutching her leg just above the knee. The other three in the group hit the ground, looking around wildly. Mac ducked back behind the tree as a sporadic return fire started. She could tell from the wide pattern that they only had a general idea of where she was. That was about to change. Grimly, she tightened her grip on the pistol. Her job was to keep these people occupied long enough for Harm and Pick to take out the first group. Hopefully, they would do that and make it back before things got really nasty.  
  
Mac eased back around the base of the tree and took careful aim. It would be her last chance to try and hit anything. After that, she doubted if she'd be able to do more than point in their general direction and fire off rounds. She squeezed off the shot and then cursed softly. It had been close, but she missed her target. Mac pulled back behind the tree once more, unable to keep from cringing as a hail of bullets slammed into the trunk. Now, things would get interesting. She scooted to the other side of the second tree and chanced a quick look. Several bullets hitting the tree made her yank her head back quickly, but she'd seen enough to confirm her suspicions. The three men were spreading out and there was really no way to stop it. It wouldn't be long before they would have her flanked.   
  
Mac stuck her hand around the trunk and fired three quick rounds and then moved back to her original position as the men returned fire. She didn't have a lot of options. Staying here meant dying. Running could also mean dying but there was a chance she'd get away. She surveyed the woods behind her. They ended after about thirty yards but continued north and south. She'd have to pull straight back, then head south and hope that she found Harm and Tyler. She fired twice more in the general vicinity of the man who was closest to flanking her, hoping to slow him down a little. It was time to move.  
  
As quickly and cautiously as she could, Mac climbed to her feet. She grimaced slightly. Even without the incentive of people shooting at her, running was not going to be fun. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand around the tree, emptied the clip and then took off running. She stayed as low as her protesting back would permit and actually gained ten yards before the shouts behind told her they had discovered her escape. The time for caution past, she veered south, picking up speed as she dodged between trees. After the initial desultory shots, the gunfire ceased. Mac didn't bother looking behind, now it was a foot race and her only chance of surviving would be to find Harm.  
  
******  
  
Harm finished tying both men to the trees and turned back to Tyler. It had been a couple of minutes since the shooting stopped. The choices he was being forced to make were killing him. He had to secure the prisoners and he had to take care of Pick. Harm was anxious and terrified and angry, all at the same time. He never should have left her. It was a fool's hope to think that Mac could have taken out all four by herself with just a 9mm pistol. He couldn't even bring himself to consider the worst and most plausible scenario. But if it was true... if it was true, by God, he'd kill every one of those sons of bitches.  
  
Scooping up the discarded shirts, he moved over to Tyler. The young man had maneuvered himself backwards until he could lean against a tree. He looked worriedly at Harm as the Commander knelt down next to him, "Sir, the Colonel... "  
  
"I know," Harm said tersely. He pulled at Pick's hands, "Let me see."  
  
Tyler held on tightly, "Sir, I can wait. Honest. Go find her... please?"  
  
"Lieutenant..." Harm gritted his teeth in exasperation, reminding himself that the young man was probably still nursing a bit of a crush on Mac. "Lieutenant, if I let you bleed to death, Colonel MacKenzie will kill me."  
  
Pick stared at him, "You think she's okay, sir?"  
  
Harm grunted and then offered a slight smile, "You should know by now that Jarheads are tough to kill." He pulled at Tyler's hands again, "Help me out, Lieutenant. The sooner I take care of you, the sooner I can go bail the Colonel out of whatever jam she's gotten herself into."  
  
Pick relaxed his hands and let the JAG Commander inspect the wounds. Harm began tearing one of the shirts into strips. It could have been a lot worse. Tyler had a stab wound in his upper arm and a deep slash downward across his chest. It looked like the blade had hit at the top of the ribcage and angled down, skipping along ribs as it traveled. Using a sleeve as a pad, Harm wrapped the arm wound. He was starting on the ribs when a crashing in the underbrush made both men freeze.   
  
Sweeping up his weapon, Harm jumped to his feet, putting himself between Pick and whatever was coming. He had the rifle loosely held against his shoulder with the barrel angled down as he waited tensely. When Mac stumbled into the small clearing, he thought he would collapse from relief.  
  
Mac tripped and caught herself as she forced her way through a tangle of underbrush. She was scratched and bleeding from her headlong flight. The sight of Harm brought her up short. No oasis in the desert was a more welcome sight. He seemed frozen as well and then he took a step forward, saying her name softly. A split second later, he had the rifle up and pointing towards her, finger curling around the trigger. Mac didn't waste any time and dove for the ground as Harm fired.  
  
The two shots were almost simultaneous. Harm felt the passage of the slug whiz by the side of his face. His opponent was not so lucky. Harm's shot took him square in the chest, dropping him like a rock. The two men coming up behind the fallen man froze as the Commander's rifle tracked towards them. Throwing down their weapons, both shoved their hands in the air, calling 'Don't Shoot!'. Harm curtly motioned them into the clearing, giving them the same instruction he had given the others, "Strip."  
  
His threatening scowl had them hastening to obey while Mac stared at him a little askance. Harm flashed her a quick, reassuring smile. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position and stopped for a moment, resting her head in her hand and closing her eyes. The relief at reaching safety was almost overwhelming. She really thought that this had been it - with every stride on that punishing dash through thickets and brush, she could hear them getting closer. In another 50 yards, they'd have had her.`Vaguely, she heard Harm order the men to wrap their arms around a tree. When she heard him say her name in a quiet, worried tone, she lifted her head and gave him a wan smile, "I'm okay, just regrouping."  
  
Harm looked down at her, he had gone to check that the third man was truly dead while his captives were undressing. After ordering them each to hug a tree, he'd come back to where Mac was still sitting. That she hadn't moved was beginning to worry him. He took in the slight smile and gave one of his own, "You look like you lost a fight with the family cat."  
  
She snorted a little at that and then her brow furrowed as she started to look around, "Where's... oh damn, Pick!" Mac scrambled up with the aid of Harm's hand under her elbow and made her way over to the young man. Harm backed up with her, keeping his eye on the prisoners. She knelt down next to Tyler, taking in the makeshift bandage on his arm and then pulling his hands away from his chest. "What happened?" The slash across Pick's chest looked nasty but the bleeding had already slowed down to a trickle.  
  
Harm answered before Tyler did, speaking loudly enough so the men could hear him, "One of these geniuses decided not to go down without a fight. I blew him away." He lowered his voice, "Mac, where's the fourth?"  
  
Mac had been startled at first by Harm's reply, it wasn't like him to boast about killing someone. A glance up showed him focusing on the remnants of the terrorist group. She decided that he was hoping to keep them intimidated. She concentrated again on Tyler while answering quietly, "Probably still in the first clearing. I put a round in her leg, I don't think she can walk."  
  
"But you're not sure,"  
  
"No." Mac gave Pick a hand pulling himself forward so she could wrap a bandage around his chest. She looked up at Harm, "We'll have to go back and see. We have to go back anyway and find Cat and Nicky." Glancing over at the captives, she smiled slightly, "What about your Lady Godiva troop?"  
  
"We'll leave them tied to the trees and let the police pick them up. Speaking of which, cover me while I secure our last two guests." He gave her a hand up again and offered the rifle which she declined, instead pulling the 9mm out of her coat pocket. He leaned his weapon up against the tree where Pick was and headed over to the men. Harm eyed her a trifle anxiously as she slowly followed him. "Are you going to be all right?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Mac, making a valiant effort to walk normally. Her back felt like she should be in a permanent question mark position. "It's gets better when I can keep moving." She watched as he once again removed boot laces and quickly trussed the last two men to their trees.   
  
After checking the first two to make sure they remained secure, Harm turned back to Mac, "Okay, let's grab Tyler and... " A burst of gunfire made them both jump and then Harm dove at Mac, flattening her underneath him. Trying to ignore her sharp cry of pain as they hit the ground, he looked around wildly, cursing himself for leaving his rifle out of reach. Fumbling for his sidearm, he spotted their assailant, braced against a tree, taking aim once again. There was no way she could miss at this distance. He curled himself protectively around Mac, hoping somehow that she, at least, would survive these next few seconds.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1625 Local  
  
Tink did one more visual sweep of the area and then motioned for Maggie and El to get started. The Colonel would no doubt have his head for taking the two along but he didn't know what else to do. Maggie had proved to be completely intractable whenever he mentioned staying somewhere safe and El, while not admitting anything, had been too frightened to leave alone again. After some discussion, he had decided it would be safest to approach the house from the pasture side. It would also give him the opportunity to stash El in the woods, as far away as possible from any of these lunatics. Maybe he'd get lucky and convince Maggie to stay behind as well to keep an eye on the young girl. It was worth a shot.  
  
Nervously, Tink watched as the two scurried across the open area before sliding to a halt behind a row of trees that lined the driveway. He waited a minute, listening and watching and then signaled Maggie to move to the next point. The route they had decided upon was somewhat convoluted but it also meant they were never more than 15 yards from cover. Once Maggie and El reached their second point, he took one more look around and then headed out himself. With his size and the condition of his back, he knew he was in greater danger of being spotted. That had been the one concession he had forced out of Maggie; if he was spotted, she would get El to safety while he did what he could to lead pursuers away.  
  
Finally, he watched as El and Maggie slithered between the boards of the pasture fence and dropped out of sight. This would the most dangerous for him. There was no way he could fit in between, he'd have to go over and hope no one saw him. Tink had just reached the fence when gunfire in the distance started up. It was sporadic at first but quickly gained volume. He was up and over the fence in an instant, flattening out as soon as he landed. Cautiously, he peered back the way they'd come. There was very little activity outside, had they been stupid enough to send most of their people out to capture the Princess? The gunfire abruptly stopped and he tried not to think of what that might mean.   
  
Quietly, he made his way over to where Maggie and El were crouched. They both stared at him, wide-eyed. Maggie had an arm wrapped around El. She cleared her throat and asked carefully, "Tom? Who do you think they were shooting at?"  
  
Tink shrugged uncomfortably, "I'm not sure. I doubt it was T and his group, it was coming from the wrong direction." He paused and then continued in a low tone, "Someone was shooting back, so it was probably Col. MacKenzie or Lt. Tyler." He turned towards the woods, gesturing for the two to precede him, "C'mon, we can't stay here."  
  
El held back, she looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Do you think they killed Cat and Nicky?"  
  
"Sweetie... " Tink began, a single shot rang out and he flinched in spite of himself, "Sweetie, they're trying to catch your brother and sister, not hurt them." That, apparently, would change after they had the entire family, something that Bell had no intention of letting happen. He shooed Maggie and El into motion and they headed for the woods. Several tense minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it into the trees. There was another burst of gunfire and it pushed El over the edge. With a sob, she flung herself at Bell, who knelt and gathered her up in his arms. Making soothing sounds in his deep bass, Tink looked a little helplessly at Maggie. Crying twelve year-olds were somewhat outside his experience.  
  
Maggie looked back at him sympathetically and smiled encouragingly. He smiled back and concentrated on El. Gradually, her crying lessened and then she pulled back enough to look at him. "They killed Colonel Mac, didn't they?" her voice was just a whisper.  
  
Tink shook his head, "I don't know, hon, but I wouldn't believe it until I knew for sure. The Colonel's a hard woman to kill." He wouldn't accept anything happening to Pick, either. That little guy had more lives than a cat. He looked over at Maggie, "I want you two to stay here while I go back to the house." He let the expected protest roll over him and then continued, "Maggie, no matter what else happens, we can't let them get their hands on El." He looked down at the young girl, "As long as they don't have you, your family will be safe." 'Relatively speaking,' he added to himself. If this went on too long, they might decide to cut their losses and kill the ones they had.  
  
"Then why don't you stay here too?" Maggie countered, "You're better protection than I am."  
  
"I need to find out where they're holding everyone and how many are left," Bell explained patiently. "The cops have got to be on their way, if they're not here already. Someone must have reported the gunfire and they were aware of potential threat, so they know what they're getting into. I'll find them after I've done the recon so they can plan their rescue."  
  
Maggie stared at him for the longest time and he began to shift a little nervously. She stepped up so that she was toe to toe with him and he noted somewhat vaguely that she was tall enough that her head came up to his chin. A moment later, she had pulled his head down and was kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He thought he heard El giggling but it didn't seem to matter. Abruptly, Maggie let him go and he staggered back a step. She stood with her hands on her hips and gave him a slow smile, "Come back in one piece and there's more where that came from."   
  
He gaped at her for a moment and then popped to attention. Snapping off a salute that would have made his drill instructor proud, he grinned, "Yes Ma'am!"  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1645 Local  
  
Harm flinched as three shots rang out. For a long moment, he laid there, somewhat shocked. He hadn't been hit at all, how could that woman have missed? He looked up in time to see her slide to the forest floor, a growing red stain across her chest. He twisted around to see Tyler, rifle braced on his knees, still staring at the woman he had just killed. A groan reminded him of where he was and he hurriedly shifted. "Mac?" She didn't answer right away, instead concentrating on turning over onto her back. He gave her a hand and for good measure, hauled her halfway into his lap. "Mac?" he repeated, a little more anxiously. She still had her eyes squeezed shut.  
  
Finally, she pried one eye open, while one hand drifted up towards her head, "What the hell happened? Someone was shooting?"  
  
"Yeah, it seems our fourth could walk. How much do you remember?" He rested a hand on the side of her face.  
  
"Everything up to when the shooting started. Something hit me while I was turning around... was that you?" Mac winced slightly as she tried to recall. Harm nodded, and she sighed a little, closing her eyes again, "Well, that answers that question."  
  
"What question?" Harm prompted.  
  
Mac squinted up at him, "I was trying to figure out how I could have been hit by a truck in the middle of the woods." She glanced around the clearing, "What happened to our shooter? Did you... "  
  
Harm shook his head, "Not me, Tyler got her before she could get us."  
  
"Is he all right?" She couldn't quite see Pick from her angle and started to push herself upright, "Help me up."   
  
He didn't even bother arguing, it was a waste of time. Harm grabbed a hand and hauled Mac to her feet. Once she was up, he reached down, retrieving her pistol and handing it back. She'd lost her grip on it when he tackled her. Mac was a lot steadier than he thought she'd be, nevertheless, he stayed close as she moved over to where Tyler was sitting.  
  
Pick looked up as they walked over, his expression was strained, "I never had to shoot a woman before." He couldn't decide how to feel about it. His upbringing told him you don't hit women, much less shoot them. On the other hand, she had clearly been about to kill both the Commander and the Colonel.  
  
Mac sank to her knees with only a slight grimace, "She didn't give you a lot of options, Pick." She put a hand on his arm, "I'm sorry you had to make that decision but, thank you, you saved our lives." She paused for a moment, eyeing him, "Do you think you can walk?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Pick answered promptly. Harm covered a small snort with a cough, earning himself a look from Mac. The young Lieutenant's crush was still in effect, Harm didn't doubt that Tyler would have answered the same way even if he'd lost both legs.   
  
He reached down and hauled Mac up. She leaned against him for a moment and muttered quietly, "Behave yourself." At his wide-eyed look of innocence, she merely arched an eyebrow. Swallowing a smile, Harm bent back down. He grabbed the rifle with one hand and latched on to Pick's good arm with the other, pulling the young man upright. Tyler was considerably paler now that he was standing and both Harm and Mac reached out with steadying hands.  
  
He accepted their help gratefully and then tensed suddenly, looking over their shoulders. Harm and Mac froze as well. Very softly, Harm asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
Tyler hardly dared to move, "There was someone moving in the woods behind you. I can't see them now."  
  
"Last position?" Mac slipped a hand into her coat pocket.  
  
"Your two o'clock, ma'am. About 25 yards out." Pick silently berated himself, there was a third group? How could he have missed them?  
  
"Can you get behind the tree?" Harm wanted to know as he surreptitiously adjusted his grip on the rifle. Pick gave an almost imperceptible nod. A glance at Mac told him that she wouldn't even consider the same suggestion. Instead, Harm said quietly, "You go left, I'll go right. On three, one... two... three!" The two officers split, heading for cover while Pick ducked behind the tree he'd been leaning against.  
  
Harm shot a look at Mac who looked back, giving a slight shake of her head. He tilted his head towards the trees and raised a questioning eyebrow. Mac was still for a moment before giving a small shrug and then nodding. Harm took a deep breath and yelled, "You out there! We know where you are! Come out with your hands up!"  
  
There was a silence and then a voice came back, "Commander Rabb?"  
  
Harm and Mac looked at each other in surprise. Cautiously, Harm answered, "This is Rabb, come out if you want to talk." He glanced back at Mac to see her anxiously scanning the rest of the area. He hoped to hell this wasn't some sort of trap. They wouldn't stand much of a chance.  
  
A figure dressed in black stepped slowly out from behind a tree, hands in the air, and Harm sagged in relief. The cops had found them. Harm climbed to his feet and hurried over to give Mac a hand up as well. She headed back to where Pick had taken cover while Harm waited for the officer to make his way to them.  
  
The officer finished speaking into his comm unit as he walked up to Harm. Further out, black-suited men started appearing from behind trees and bushes. "Commander, I'm Sergeant Donnelly of the Kentucky State Troopers Special Response Unit. Are you people all right?"   
  
"I'm fine, but Lt. Tyler and Colonel MacKenzie have both been injured," Harm replied. Mac would give him hell but if he managed to get her somewhere safe then it would be worth it. "How did you find us?"  
  
"We were met at the entrance by Catalin and Nicolas. They told us what was going on and where they thought you'd probably be." Donnelly shook his head, "We had a hard time keeping them from coming with us." As he was speaking, a half dozen state troopers moved in, forming a loose semi-circle around the Sergeant.  
  
"What about Liz Parker?" Both men turned at the sound of Mac's voice. She and Pick were slowly making their way over. Mac had Pick's arm across her shoulders and an arm around his waist.  
  
Donnelly was immediately on his comm unit again. Harm listened as he ordered an ambulance and paramedics to come up the driveway about an eighth of mile and wait. Donnelly looked over at Mac, "She should be at Lexington General now, ma'am." He gestured for one of his men to replace her and indicated two others, "As soon as the ambulance is in place, Parker and Holcomb will escort you and the Lieutenant to it. We'll have you at the hospital in no time at all."  
  
"You will, will you?" Relieved of Pick's weight, Mac turned and glared at Harm. "What exactly have you been telling the Sergeant, Commander Rabb?"  
  
"The truth, Colonel," Harm decided to take a firm line. He infinitely preferred an angry Marine to a dead one.  
  
Mac turned to the Sergeant, "Excuse us. Commander?" She walked about five feet away and waited.  
  
Harm sighed a little and then nodded to where he had the men tied to the trees. "That's what's left of group that was pursuing us. I'll be back in just a minute." He walked over to Mac.  
  
She silently stared at him with narrowed eyes for what seemed like just this side of forever. Harm stood there, trying not to fidget. He hated it when she didn't say anything. Why couldn't she understand that he had her best interests at heart? Taking out the rest of the terrorists was going to be dangerous, she didn't need to be there. He swallowed a sigh, he could just hear the first words out of her mouth: 'I'm a Marine officer. I can take care of myself.' How many times had she stood toe-to-toe with him and uttered those words? It wasn't like he was blind or an idiot, he knew she was more than capable of handling herself in threatening situations... and, no, if she were a man, they probably wouldn't be having this discussion...   
  
Okay, maybe that did seem a trifle over-protective, but dammit, wasn't he entitled? All right, granted, she had never gotten high-handed about any of his roles in dangerous actions - when he gave her the chance, that is. At most, she tried to talk him out of it or yelled at him about it, after the fact. ... So... maybe they should have talked it over and, possibly, he shouldn't have arbitrarily decided; but she had taken some pretty hard knocks today, enough to scare him senseless. Just once, just this one time, couldn't she step back and let him handle the heroics? He ran a hand through his hair, when was she going to say something? He started to open his mouth and then Mac spoke, "If I'm not going with the cops, neither are you."  
  
Harm stood there for a second with his mouth open, "Now wait a minute, I'm not the one who's been hurt. There's no reason for me not to go."  
  
Mac looked at him calmly, "There's also no reason for you to go. These guys are trained for this, they don't need you along."  
  
Harm glared at her, "They'll need someone along who knows where everything is and can point out the good guys from the bad guys."  
  
"That would be Pick and he's in no shape at the moment to go anywhere. You've kept to the house most of the time, how familiar are you with the rest of the outbuildings or the barn staff?" Mac carefully folded her arms, she had no intention of wincing in front of Harm.  
  
"For pete's sake, they're just barns. How much of a layout can they have? And I think I can tell a stableboy from a terrorist. I still need to go along. The cops will need all the help they can get." He was starting to get a little irritated.  
  
"Fine, but if you go, I go. I DO know the layout of the outbuildings... and the barn staff... and the best approaches to get where we need to be, unseen." Mac regarded him with a reasonable air.  
  
"Goddammit, Mac! I'm not the one who's hurt!" Harm was throwing out his last line of defense and they both knew it.  
  
"I'm bruised, not broken, Harm, and the more I move, the easier it gets." She quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled sweetly, "And if you'll refrain from landing on me again, I'll probably continue to improve."  
  
His jaw dropped, and he spluttered, "I was saving your six!"  
  
"I know, thank you. Next time, maybe you could just tell me to get down," Mac continued to smile at him, "So what's it going to be, Commander? Both of us or neither of us?"  
  
Harm opened his mouth and then closed it. Mac had chosen a valid point on which to bargain, proving once again how good her lawyering skills were. And he knew what she carefully hadn't said. That this was her assignment and she outranked him. She could have ordered him to stand down - one way or the other. Either told him to stay behind or to desist in his efforts to sideline her, but she hadn't. Instead, she had relied on her powers of persuasion. Now it was his turn to surrender gracefully to the inevitable. This entire discussion might become moot if the Sergeant did indeed refuse to let them go along. He managed a smile of his own, "I guess it's both of us." He turned with a slight bow and gestured towards the waiting Donnelly, "Shall we tell the good Sergeant how we are about to disrupt his plans?" 


	17. Part 17

Part 17  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1645 Local  
  
Donnelly looked from one officer to the other before focusing on Harm, "But you said... "  
  
Mac interrupted, "Commander Rabb sometimes errs on the side of caution. I'm fine. What are your plans to rescue the Dzuricks?" She watched the Sergeant closely, wondering if this was yet another man she was going to have to prove herself to. He didn't look happy but that could also be because he didn't want either one of them along.  
  
The Sergeant rubbed the back of his neck. His Lieutenant had warned him that there could be a terrorist attack against the foreign royalty staying at Windswept. They'd spent the last several days working through various scenarios and going over maps and aerial photos of the large farm. The brass had made it clear that this situation had no room for error. The Montgomerys were visible and important in the community - he was to do whatever it took to get them out safely. If it meant deliberately letting some people slip through the net, then so be it. He wasn't particularly happy about it but he understood the larger picture.   
  
He hadn't been all that thrilled to find that a couple of military lawyers had been pretty much running the show the last few days. They had apparently charmed their way into the royal family and taken over the security arrangements. It was fairly obvious to him that they'd been in over their heads and that the Feds had dropped the ball. In his opinion, a lot of this could have been avoided if they'd come to the police in the first place. It was irritating as hell that people automatically assumed that the Feds were the experts on this type of situation and that the cops, even the state cops, were a bunch of bumbling local yokels. Surprisingly, the Dzurick children hadn't let this fiasco dampen their admiration for the two JAGs. On the contrary, he'd had a hard time convincing them not to rejoin the officers.  
  
Donnelly's gaze strayed over to the men being taken into custody, as well as the three bodies. Either the bad guys they were facing were truly inept, or these paper-pushers had been extremely lucky. It was probably a combination of both. The last thing he needed was extra people to watch over while he dealt with the hostage situation. Even though they were military, they didn't have the necessary training and, more importantly, they were under no compulsion to follow his orders. He didn't need any loose cannons while he was negotiating. Finally, he sighed, "Look, I appreciate your offer but why don't you two join the Dzurick children? It'll help keep them calm. I think my men and I can take it from here."  
  
Harm and Mac exchanged glances. Mac folded her arms again and raised an eyebrow, "You're sure about that?" Harm kept his face expressionless, he'd been on the receiving end of that deadpan delivery before. Sergeant Donnelly was about to be unhappy.  
  
The Sergeant's eyebrows began to lower, "Quite sure." What was this all about? There was no way he was going to be pushed around by a couple of desk-jockeys.  
  
Mac turned to Harm and said calmly, "He's quite sure."   
  
Harm nodded thoughtfully and then looked at Donnelly with interest, "So you've been to Windswept Farm before?" He kept his surprise to himself. Mac had opted not to jump on this guy with both feet, so he would play along until he could decide where she was going.   
  
Sergeant Donnelly glared suspiciously at both of them before answering Harm, "We have maps and aerial photos of the area and blueprints of the house." He wouldn't put it past them to be laying some sort of groundwork for a lawsuit if things went sour. Well, they wouldn't get any help from him - he and his men were well-prepared. He taken the time to carefully interview both the Prince and Princess. Aside from their blind spot about the two JAGs, they'd been quite thorough and precise in their recounting of events. Donnelly looked at the man and woman standing in front of him, it wouldn't hurt to be polite, "Look, I appreciate your concern but we've got an Op Plan in place and it would be better if I didn't have to worry about non-combatants."  
  
"That's certainly understandable," Mac smiled briefly at Donnelly and then gave Harm a look, "We should get going." The Commander nodded, it was clear that the Sergeant had no intention of utilizing them in any way. Rather than getting into a prolonged argument, the two officers silently agreed to an end run. Harm smothered a grin wondering if Donnelly would truly understand the favor Mac was granting him. Probably not - one had to have one's ears pinned back by an angry Marine to appreciate not having it happen.  
  
Donnelly gave a quiet sigh, that had gone a lot smoother than he thought it would. His sense of relief was short-lived when the two JAGs turned south instead of north. He took a step after them, "Wait!" Neither officer slowed down or looked back. Goddammit, what were they doing? Donnelly hurried after them, swearing under his breath.  
  
Harm glanced down at Mac. "Keep moving?" he muttered quietly. Mac nodded minutely, not slackening her pace. She would have preferred going in with the police but it was obvious that Donnelly considered them to be liabilities. She'd meant what she said to Harm earlier, these guys were trained for hostage situations but it was short-sighted of them to dismiss her and Harm's help.  
  
Donnelly finally caught up, "Stop right there, dammit! What do you two think you're doing?"   
  
They halted and Harm looked over at the red-faced Sergeant. "We're heading back to the main complex," he replied as reasonably as possible. He hated having to deal with people who let their prejudices affect their decisions. This guy obviously had some sort of point to prove about the superiority of the State Police. "We still have a man on the grounds. We'll hook up with him, see how things stand and let you guys know what we've found." It would be too much to hope for that the Sergeant would acquiesce without a fight.   
  
"I can't allow that!" Donnelly sputtered. "This is a police matter. I don't need you people getting in the way and getting yourselves or somebody else killed."  
  
Harm felt Mac tense beside him and put a hand on her arm. He'd rather she save her energy for the final stage. He took a small step towards the Sergeant, taking full advantage of his height to loom over the man. "This is also a military matter," he stated flatly. "You don't want our help - fine, you're making a mistake. In the meantime, don't expect us to sit back and watch you play catch-up in this situation. The Dzuricks and Montgomerys are going to come out of this alive, one way or another." This was unbelievable. He had expected some sort of snafu in calling in reinforcements. What he hadn't figured on was the reinforcements trying to take over the entire operation.  
  
Donnelly's scowl grew deeper, "We'll get them out, don't you worry about that - and we'll do it without interference from you two. I've tried to be nice about this but now I'm ordering you both to get off this farm."  
  
"Don't be an ass!" Mac snapped, "This isn't a pissing contest so you can prove your state troopers are better than the Feds or the military. Frankly, I don't care if the Boy Scouts pull off the rescue if it gets everyone out safely. Are you always this lacking in professionalism?"  
  
"That's enough..." Sergeant Donnelly stopped abruptly and took an inadvertent step back when Mac planted herself in front of him.  
  
"It most certainly is!" she rapped out, her jaw clenching. "Do you have any idea what you're getting into? Do you know who you're facing and why they're there? Did it occur to you to that the Commander and myself might have some insight into what's probably happening right now? That we might be more up-to-date on the approaches to Windswept? That we can identify who Windswept employees are, or aren't? Were you listening just now when Commander Rabb told you we still have one of our people on the scene?" She glanced back at Harm. For a brief moment, he could see the tension and worry on her face and something else... her dark eyes seemed almost black. He shivered in spite of himself and then she had swung back to Donnelly. "We're running out of time - the Dzuricks are running out of time. Get your men together and follow us. We'll fill you in while we're moving." The Sergeant stood gaping at her. Mac glared at him fiercely, "GO!"  
  
As soon as he turned back towards his men, Mac pivoted to continue on their way. Harm stayed close, ready to lend a hand when the adrenaline wore off. He looked down at Mac as they hurried along. "Were you having one of your... ummm... 'psychic' moments just now? I saw the look on your face."  
  
"I'm not sure." Mac kept her eyes focused on their path, not wanting to relive that particular moment. Finally, she said, "It was,,, I don't know... a sense of foreboding. It was so strong that, for a second or two, I couldn't even breathe." She looked up at him, her expression haunted, "Oh God, Harm, what if we're too late?"  
  
He wanted to wrap his arms around her but settled for grasping a hand, "We won't be," he said firmly. "We'll get them out and everything will be fine. You'll see."  
  
*******  
  
Tink sidled along the back of the house. He had taken an oblique approach and although he hadn't spotted any guards, it had been nerve-wracking all the same. Reaching the back porch, he eased carefully over to a window and peered inside. Ducking back, he leaned against the wall and considered his next move. Ruth and Elsa June were in the kitchen with one guard. The man had positioned himself so that he had a view of both interior and exterior doors. Bell frowned in frustration while he looked over the rest of the building. He eyed the porch roof and then dismissed the idea. Both his size and his back were against going that route. Somehow, he had to draw the guard out without actually alarming him. He shook his head, now would be a good time for one of the barncats to show up. Unfortunately, they were probably too smart to make an appearance until they were sure the shooting was over.  
  
He edged off the porch and froze when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Slowly turning his head, he didn't know if he should be terrified or furious. El was halfway to the house and Maggie was about ten yards behind her. As quickly as he dared, he made his way over to intercept the two - keeping a wary eye out for any other sentries. By the time they reached the corner of the house, he was waiting. Grabbing the arm of each, he hustled them behind a cluster of lilac bushes.  
  
Maggie and El started speaking almost at once.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tom. I heard something in the woods and when I went to look, El bolted." Maggie looked torn between contrition and exasperation.  
  
"I can help, Tinker. I know I can. I couldn't just wait and do nothing," El pleaded.  
  
Tink held up a hand, "Enough." He sat and looked at the two, there was no way he'd chance trying to send them back. If he had learned nothing else, it was that El was maddeningly persistent. This was his fault when you came right down to it. He hadn't considered the possibility that El would want to take an active part in rescuing her family. He knew she understood that these people were deadly but, at twelve years old, didn't truly grasp what that could mean. This was the age when the good guys won simply because they were good guys. He looked back at the house again and then looked at Maggie. "All right, here's what we're going to do... "  
  
*******  
  
Ruth sat at the kitchen table and watched Elsa June fuss and flutter around the kitchen. Vaguely, she wished she also had some sort of outlet for the nerves and fear. Resolutely, she kept her hands folded in her lap and her back straight. Outwardly, she was a picture of calm complacency. Inwardly, she was hard put to remember a time when she had been so terrified and angry at the same time. Well, there had been the dark days of the sixties. Her oldest son had enlisted right out of high school and found himself in Vietnam eight months later. The entire country - the world, for that matter, had seemed to be out of its collective mind. She still had his letters, telling an entirely different view of the war than what was being presented by the media.   
  
Six months later, the ubiquitous government sedan had stopped in front of the house. Watching the Marine officer coming up the walkway with Pastor Rice in tow, she had experienced the same terror and rage. Her husband, Hank, had never quite recovered from the blow. For her, Gus and Harley had been a lifeline. Harley had been the shoulder when the grief was overwhelming; and for all their sparring and tweaking at each other, Ruth wasn't sure she would have survived without Gus' indomitable strength.   
  
And now this; Ruth fixed her gaze on the cold-eyed young man who was watching them both. What she wouldn't give for ten seconds with one of Elsa June's iron skillets and a clear shot at their guard. Their captors had decided they were hungry and Elsa June was flittering around the kitchen, putting together meals and keeping up a muttered commentary under her breath. Fortunately, the young man seemed amused rather than angry as the rotund little cook banged and clattered while she worked. A movement outside the back door caught Ruth's eye and she involuntarily tensed. Their guard picked up on her immediately and swung towards the door just as Maggie O'Toole banged on the doorframe and called out a cheery 'Hello'.  
  
The young man was on his feet in an instant and at the door, yanking it open. Maggie took a step back, looking startled, "Who are you? Where's Elsa June?"  
  
"Never mind, get in here." The man gestured with his AK-47.   
  
Wide-eyed, Maggie kept edging backward, "What did you do with Elsa June? Are you going to kill me? I don't have any money..."  
  
Irritated, he moved forward, "Just shut up and get in..." That was as far as he got when a large hand yanked the weapon out of his grasp. He barely had time to register surprise when a fist crashed into the side of his head. He crumpled into a heap and a moment later, Tink's large frame filled the doorway.  
  
"Ladies," he smiled at the two astonished women, "Do you have someplace we can put this?" Tink nudged the unconscious man with his toe.  
  
Ruth was on her feet. "The pantry," she said decisively and then turned to Elsa June, "Keep up the clatter, we don't want anyone checking why it's suddenly quiet." She gestured to Bell, "This way." It didn't take any time at all for Tink and Ruth to hogtie, as well as blindfold and gag, their former captor. Coming out of the pantry, Ruth stopped in shock at the sight of Maggie and El, standing with Elsa June. She turned swiftly to Tink and hissed quietly, "Mr. Bell! Are you out of your mind? They're looking for her!"  
  
Tink rubbed the back of his neck, "I know. I need someplace safe to put them and I need to get you ladies out of here."  
  
"Safe would be anywhere but here! Honestly, I thought you had more sense," Ruth continued her quiet tirade even as she walked over and gave El a hug.  
  
"It's not Tinker's fault, Ms. Ruth," El said, "I followed him. I want to help."  
  
Ruth looked over at Maggie and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Maggie shrugged and blushed at the same time, "I followed, too."  
  
"Ruth?" Tink said quietly after peering down the hallway, "Has anyone been upstairs?"  
  
Elsa June answered, "Not since they searched it the first time."  
  
"Good," Bell looked at the women, "We'll hide you right under, or I should say, over their noses."  
  
"How do you plan to get us up there, young man?" Ruth folded her arms. "The staircase is in the front of the house in plain view."  
  
Tink jerked a thumb out the back door, "The porch roof. I'll lift all of you up there and you can go in a window."  
  
Maggie raised a hand, "I'll go first."  
  
Ruth nodded and made a shooing motion with her hand, "Elsa June and I will keep watch, but you need to hurry."  
  
'That was an understatement.' Tink thought as he checked out the back door to see if it was clear. In a matter of minutes, he had both Maggie and El up on the roof. He waited until they had found a window to climb through and then gestured towards Ruth and Elsa June, "Next."  
  
The two women looked at him and then looked at each other. Ruth shook her head, "No. If we stay here and pretend we're still being guarded, we'll make it easier for you to surprise them." She smiled at the expression on Tink's face, "Besides, young man, I'm too old and Elsa's too round to be clambering around on rooftops or climbing through windows. Now close your mouth and get in the kitchen, we need to know what you're planning."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1630 Local  
  
Nash walked back into the family room and smiled at Gheorghe and Carol. The couple tensed, both shifting instinctively to protect Mo. He chuckled and glanced around the room. The Montgomerys and the Bureau agent looked angry, Zali was expressionless although it seemed he had finally regained his wits. He turned back to the Dzuricks and bowed mockingly, "Your Majesties, you have company." Straightening up, he nodded to Karen, who was standing by the door with a sour look on her face. Nash swallowed his exasperation, she was being stubborn. He just knew that whenever she got a chance she would continue harping on getting out. He glared at her, now was not the time.  
  
Unperturbed, Karen was still frowning as she opened the door and stood aside. Lucian Valter strolled in casually and smiled at the Dzuricks, "Your Majesties."  
  
"You!" Gheorghe, Carol and Mo sat in wide-eyed shock and then, with a scowl, Gheorghe started to surge to his feet. That brought Nash, Karen and the third guard's weapons to bear on him. Mo grabbed Gheorghe's arm and clung to it, "Daddy! No!"  
  
Lucian had instinctively retreated at the fury on the King's face but quickly regained his composure. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the .45 Nash had lent him just before reentering the room. Pointing it at Gheorghe's head, he grinned, "Come, Your Majesty, what is that expression the Americans use? Ahhh yes, 'make my day'." He paused for a moment, watching, "No? Well, how about this?" He swung the pistol over to Carol.  
  
Gheorghe blanched and quickly sank back down on the couch, "No! ... please!"  
  
Valter held the weapon on Carol for a few seconds longer, enjoying the look on Gheorghe's face. Finally, he lowered it with a chuckle, "And you call yourself a King! You're nothing more than a weak, old woman. You don't deserve to rule Bacovia."  
  
"And you're nothing but a coward."  
  
Valter turned slowly around to see Zali glaring at him. He smiled unpleasantly, "Ahhh, Marius, always the hero. How does it feel to fail so completely? The King should have accepted your resignation after Annapolis." He tapped his chin, "I think I'll save you for last so that you may enjoy the enormity of your incompetence."  
  
"How can you do this?" Mo spoke up at last, "I thought we were friends."  
  
"Did you?" Lucian turned back and regarded Mo with a condescending air, "Tell me how that works... Princess. You're an aristocrat and I'm a peasant." He directed a glare at Gheorghe, "I was allowed to mingle so long as I kept my place. Treat me as a son as long as I didn't look at your daughters. At least, however, I'm still Bacovian. I know better than to allow the corruption of American excesses to taint my values."  
  
Gheorghe snorted, "Values? Selling out your country to become a haven for murderers? How much did they pay you for your 'values'? What did they promise?"  
  
Valter arched an eyebrow, "What I was promised is no concern of yours." He smiled slightly, "Or I should say, will be no concern of yours."  
  
"What did they promise when you fail?"  
  
Lucian turned slowly towards Harley Montgomery, his expression hardening, "Careful, old woman, or I shall make an example of you. There is no reason to keep you alive." Behind him, Carol tensed, staring at her mother.  
  
Harley regarded him calmly, "I suppose that's true and you are correct, young man, I am old. Killing me will merely hasten my end by a few years. It also means that I have no reason to lie to you and I find I wish to indulge my curiosity... What happens when you fail?" She gestured towards Nash and Karen, "Your hired help has obviously been unable to capture the rest of the family and that's necessary, is it not, in order for your plan to succeed?"  
  
Lucian glanced over his shoulder and Nash hurriedly swaggered forward a step, "That's where you're wrong. My men are bringing in the Prince and Princess, even as we speak." He swept his gaze around the room before giving Karen an almost defiant look. It was true, he just knew it. Bodie wouldn't fail him.  
  
Straightening a little, Harley glanced at the expression on her daughter's face. She shook her head at Lucian, "I'm afraid I would have little faith in that man's word. He's proven quite adept at lying. Were I you, I'd want confirmation." She refused to believe that the Colonel and Commander, as well as young Mr. Tyler, would let anyone get their hands on Cat and Nicky without selling themselves dearly - and that much gunfire would draw the authorities in quickly. With that belief in mind, she would do what she could to set these people against each other and, hopefully, buy time. She felt Gus' hand on her back momentarily and tried not to smile. He knew what she was doing and would do what he could to support her - even if it meant sitting there with his mouth shut.  
  
Valter stared at her, a little niggling doubt making itself known. The woman had a point, Nash had yet to mention any difficulties they might have encountered and the fact that the entire family wasn't present proved that the operation hadn't gone all that smoothly. Dammit! He'd gotten greedy, wanting to be in at the kill. He glanced at his watch and then turned to Nash with his eyes glittering, "Let's step outside for a moment."  
  
Reluctantly, Nash followed Valter into the entryhall. The young man spun towards him as soon as he cleared the door. "Where are they? They should have been here by now!"  
  
Nash spread his hands, "It's a long hike from the front gate with prisoners. If you want, I'll send one of my people out to hurry them along."  
  
"Do it." Valter glared at the man standing in front of him, "And find Christina Elena." He looked at his watch, "You have five minutes or I leave and this whole deal is off." Without giving Nash a chance to reply, he spun on his heel and stomped back into the room.  
  
At first, flabbergasted and then angry, Nash strode out the front door. Standing on the porch, he gave a shrill whistle and waited. It took a few minutes but Aaron finally appeared at the barn entrance and then slowly jogged to the house. Nash waited impatiently. As soon as Aaron gained the porch, he grabbed the young man by the arm, "Where's Bodie? And where's that kid?"  
  
Aaron looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, he shifted uncomfortably, "I haven't been able to reach Bodie for the last five minutes or so. I sent Davis out to look." He took a deep breath, "We've got bigger problems than the missing kid. Somehow, those hicks we had locked up in the tackroom got the jump on Doyle. They're gone." He waited fearfully, resisting the urge to close his eyes.  
  
Nash went very still. "Gone?" he repeated quietly. "Is Doyle dead?" How could everything be unraveling so fast? He saw Aaron shake his head and hauled him in closer. "Gather everybody you can find, the cops are probably going to be here soon. Find where they store the gasoline on this place and start spreading it around the barns and the house. We'll torch everything and then get out."  
  
Aaron nodded and then ventured hesitantly, "What about the guy that hired us?"  
  
"He's weaseling out, we're cutting our losses. I'll kill him along with the others." He gave Aaron a shove, "Get going. Let me know when you're ready." Nash headed back into the house, scowling fiercely, he hated it when Karen was right.  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1655 Local  
  
Sergeant Donnelly put up a hand, stopping everyone while he listened on his comm unit. He looked over at Harm and Mac, "Bryce just came across a group of men and women up ahead, one of whom was armed. They say they work at Windswept. Can you come along and take a look?"   
  
Mac nodded and moved past the Sergeant in the direction he indicated. Harm went with her, he had been right by her side throughout the trek back to the main complex. Donnelly followed behind the two JAGs. At the moment, he couldn't fault their participation. They had proved to be adept at making use of cover as they moved and hadn't slowed his people down at all - two points that had worried him. The only thing bothering him at the moment was their silence. The Colonel, after reaming him at the beginning, hadn't said more than two words since. Rabb, who was stuck to her like glue, wasn't much better. He had the distinct impression that they were merely tolerating his presence.  
  
Harm glanced down at Mac as they made their way forward. She hadn't done more than say yes or no to any of his questions since mentioning the sense of foreboding. The tension with which she carried herself was palpable. He automatically stuck a hand under her elbow when she stumbled slightly. Mac flashed him a brief look of gratitude before once again concentrating on the ground in front of her. That was another thing that was bothering him. This day had taken a toll on both of them. Not since his carrier tour had he felt this exhausted, both physically and mentally. He could only guess how Mac was feeling - he didn't doubt that her stubborn Marine pride was all that was keeping her going. He grinned wryly to himself, there was his own stubborn pride as well. No way would he give Donnelly the satisfaction of 'I told you so.'  
  
A minute or so later, they rounded a fold in a small hillside and came upon a group of people. Most were sitting quietly in the grass, one man was standing near the state trooper, Bryce. Mac swept her gaze across the men and women, JD Cartwright was not with them. She looked up at Harm and nodded, "They're okay." Damn, her voice sounded like she'd been gargling sand. The knot in her stomach loosened just a notch. They walked over to Bryce and the other man. Mac squinted at him for a moment, "You're... T?"  
  
T grinned, relieved that somebody had shown up to vouch for them, "Yes ma'am, Little T. I can't tell you how glad we are to see you folks." He swept an arm back, encompassing the group. His smile grew a little wider as Donnelly and the rest of his men came into view. "Oh man, you guys are ready for some serious ass-whomping. That's great!"  
  
The Sergeant walked over to them, eyeing T and the others, "All of you from Windswept? How'd you get away? How many terrorists are there? Do you know who they're holding?"  
  
T held up his hands, "Whoa, slow down. I don't know how many there are, I only saw three or four. They gathered up all of us that were working in the barn, shoved us in the tackroom and padlocked the door."  
  
"So you broke out and ran? Where'd you get the rifle?" Donnelly asked, gesturing towards the AK-47 that Bryce was holding.  
  
"It wasn't quite like that. About ten minutes after they gathered us up, they pushed in one more guy." He looked at Mac and Harm, "We knew he wasn't one of us. Scared the living daylights out of us at first and then he said he was Corporal Bell of the United States Marine Corps. He's got to be the biggest mother I've ever seen." He grinned at the two officers and hurried on when he caught the impatient look on Donnelly's face, "Anyway, he figured out how to take out the guard outside the door and then he, Maggie and me scouted the area for a safe getaway route. We took out another guard, Bell gave me one of the rifles and then he sent us on our way."  
  
"He stayed? Was he alright?" Harm asked. He had positioned himself so that Mac could lean on him unobtrusively. He could feel her holding her breath as she waited for T's answer.  
  
"Pretty much," T frowned slightly. "His back was bothering him. He wasn't going to say anything about it but Maggie bullied him into talking. He said he'd gotten shot a couple of months ago." He watched Harm and Mac nod in confirmation, "Man, they must have used a bazooka to bring that guy down... Are you really a Colonel in the Marine Corps, ma'am?"  
  
Donnelly broke in, "He stayed behind because he didn't think he could keep up?"  
  
T shook his head, "No. It wasn't like that. I heard him arguing with Maggie, he said he needed to... to recon - yeah, that was the word - so you guys coming in would have the latest info." He shifted a little, glancing back at the group he had lead, "Maggie stayed back with him."  
  
"He kept a female civilian with him? What the hell is the matter with him?" Donnelly was incredulous and growing angrier at the same time. What kind of slime would take advantage of the gratitude of a rescued hostage in a still-hostile environment? "Jesus H. Christ! I know jarheads think they're something special but that's pretty goddamn low!"  
  
"That's enough!" Mac yanked herself out of Harm's grasp and advanced, white-faced with anger, on the Sergeant. She found herself shoulder to shoulder with T.   
  
The affable young man was also mad as hell. He jabbed a finger at Donnelly, "It's not like that at all so get your mind out of the gutter, man! Maggie's not like that!" He turned to Mac, "She was worried he was gonna get himself killed trying to do that recon thing alone. Bell didn't know. I saw Maggie duck out of sight while we were leaving. She probably waited until we were too far away before she came out."  
  
"Thank you, T," Mac gave him a brief smile before returning her glare to the now-silent Donnelly. "I hope you're better at thinking before acting than you are at thinking before speaking." She turned back to Harm, "We're running out of time."  
  
Harm nodded and looked at T, "Can you get your people to the front entrance? It should be clear." He glanced over at Donnelly, "The Sergeant can radio ahead to the units at the entrance to expect you."  
  
T fired off a jaunty salute, his good humor restored, "No problem, General. You guys go kick some butt." He turned back to his group, gesturing for them to get up, "C'mon troops, we're outta here."  
  
Harm watched them leave, then turned and hurried after Mac. He caught up and slid a hand under her arm. "You okay?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I will be when we get everybody out in one piece." She picked up her pace a little. The sense of urgency that was riding her magnified every delay.  
  
Easily lengthening his stride to keep up with her, Harm glanced back over his shoulder. Donnelly was getting his people moving as well. Bryce jogged past them to take up his scouting position once again. Harm focused again on the terrain ahead, the barn complex was coming into view. Eyeing the distance, he figured they'd be back in the thick of it in about five minutes or so. 


	18. Part 18

Part 18  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1710 Local  
  
Nash glanced at his watch and drummed his fingers on the table. How long did it take to open a safe? He wasn't especially worried about Jeff. If he couldn't handle a five foot tall, seventy-something woman then there was something seriously wrong with his training. However, Nash was growing impatient. The timetable for this whole operation had been shot to hell and they needed to get going. With the escape of the Windswept employees, the arrival of the police would be sooner rather than later. He had no intention of getting caught.  
  
He looked around the room again. Karen had Valter sitting down on the floor with his fingers laced behind his head. With Jeff out of the room, he and Karen were even more outnumbered. It would better to correct that now. He got up, putting the .45 he'd given Valter back in his holster and slinging his rifle across his shoulder. Walking over to where his jacket was, he unbuttoned the side pocket and pulled out a handful of nylon restraints. Nash couldn't help feeling a little bit smug. This was what being prepared was all about.   
  
He looked over at Karen, "Cover me." Walking over to Harley, he gestured for her to put out her hands. Soundlessly, she held them out and he slipped the loop over and tightened it. It only took a matter of minutes to similarly restrain everyone else. Nash stopped in front of Valter and grinned, idly fingering another restraint, "Well, Mr. Valter, do you suppose your people would be interested in buying you back? I'd give them a good price." Seeing the scowl appear on the young man's face, Nash held up a hand, "Careful, if you offend me, I might just send you back to Bacovia one piece at a time." He chuckled when Valter subsided without a word and looked up at Karen, "I think our young man is learning to practice discretion."  
  
Karen opened her mouth but before she could say anything, there was an explosion of gunfire. The two froze for just an instant and then with an oath, Nash sprinted to the door. Flinging it open, he raced to the front door. That one he opened more cautiously and scanned the area. Swearing, he headed back to the family room. Skirting the staircase, he looked down the hallway in time to see the door at the end slowly open. He flattened against the wall and taking careful aim, waited to see who would appear. When an unfamiliar woman crept out, he squeezed off a quick burst. The satisfaction of seeing her hit the ground was short-lived when return fire came his way. Dammit, he had missed! Nash threw himself into the family room, landing with a thump and then clambering to his feet. Karen stared at him, wide-eyed.  
  
"We're it, goddamn cops are everywhere! Come on!" He slung the AK-47 over his shoulder once again and pulled out the .45. Taking one long stride to the couch, he yanked Carol and then Mo to their feet. Pushing Mo at Karen, he grabbed Carol by the arm and started dragging her to the door.  
  
With a roar, Georghe scrambled to his feet. He managed one step before Nash coolly brought up his pistol and fired. The force of the round hitting his chest drove the King backwards and he collapsed on the floor. Mo started screaming but Carol never said a word, staring at the body of her husband. Gus and Stump froze halfway up when the pistol tracked towards them. The sound of a slap ended Mo's screams and she subsided into quiet sobs. Harley looked in horror from her son-in-law to her daughter. She had to force herself not to shudder at the expression on Carol's face. Nash didn't know it yet but he was a dead man. Carol was going to kill him or die trying.   
  
********  
  
Aaron and Willie met near the front of the main barn. Aaron nodded towards the fuel can that Willie was carrying, "Are you finished?"  
  
"Almost," Willie replied, "I need to get another gas can, this one is empty." He tossed it over against the wall of the barn. "I've done the fronts and parts of the sides. Do you want the backs done too? Unless we post someone there, I don't see how we'll set it off."  
  
Aaron thought for a moment, "Yeah, do it anyway. Once the fire gets going, maybe the back will spontaneously combust." He frowned slightly, "Where are our two genius guards?"  
  
Willie snorted, "Davis sent them over towards the house. Told them that if they were too stupid to handle being under a roof, they could just stand out in the sun for a while."  
  
Aaron ran a hand through his hair in frustration. While Doyle and Nolan merited some sort of punishment, it wasn't exactly smart to put them where they wouldn't be of any use. They were running short of people as it was. He had finally given up trying to raise Bodie, Teresa or Wiley. Either they had somehow managed to get themselves killed or the cops had them. He glared at Willie, "Dammit, what was he thinking? Get them and have one keep watch on the driveway and put the other at the back of the barn. Where's Davis?"  
  
Willie jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "He's over at the equipment shed, spreading gasoline there."  
  
Aaron nodded sharply, "Okay, get going. After you're done, I'll meet you back at the barn office." He watched Willie head for the house and then started for the equipment shed at a jog. The sooner they got off this place, the better. It was hard to believe how quickly things had fallen apart. Goddamn Cartwrights! Never again would he use local talent on an operation. The minute they had screwed up, everything had started spiraling out of control. Bad enough the Princess and that Marine colonel had gotten away - then there was the escape of the Windswept employees and Doyle's story about being distracted by a cat. That had to be about the stupidest excuse he'd ever heard for slacking on the job. They would be critiquing this op for a long time - provided Nash didn't just kill the whole lot of them and start over with new people.  
  
He stopped at the corner of the small barn and peered around the corner. Davis was almost to the end of the building, splashing gasoline everywhere. Aaron shook his head, the jerk probably had almost as much on himself as he did in the shed. If he wasn't careful, he was going to be a human torch. He started to walk over to Davis when movement down at the end of the barn caught his eye. Pulling back, he sucked in a breath. The cops! He waved a hand, trying to get Davis' attention. The other man continued his task, concentrating on spreading gasoline and little else. Dammit!  
  
A shout told him that the cops had seen Davis. Aaron watched as Davis' head came up in surprise. He dropped the gas can and pulled up his rifle and opened fire. Everything seemed to happen at once. There was a fireball as the muzzle flash ignited the gas fumes. At the same time, Davis staggered backwards as the cops returned fire. He dropped to his knees and tipped over sideways, Aaron wasn't sure if he ever even realized that his clothes had caught fire. The spilled gas ignited quickly spreading into the shed. He pulled back, heart hammering. If the cops were at the shed, then they were probably moving through all the barns. He was trapped. Looking around wildly, he tried to calm himself. There was too much open ground between here and the house, he'd never make it there. His gaze swept over the bodies of the Cartwrights and he stopped. Why not? It might work and if nothing else, maybe he'd take a cop with him.  
  
Trooper Holcomb's comm unit crackled in his ear as he, Griffin and Schroeder skirted the now burning equipment shed. If anyone was still in there, they were literally toast. Donnelly's voice came over the line, "Holcomb! What's your status?"  
  
He keyed his mike, "Ran into one of the bad guys pouring gasoline all over. Told him to surrender and he started shooting. We took him out but the firing ignited the gas, the shed's almost fully involved. We're going to need the fire department. What's your 20?"  
  
"Damn. We're coming through the large barn. So far, it looks deserted. We'll need to secure the site before the fire department will send anyone. Check the little barn and we'll meet in front and move on the house."  
  
"10-4," Holcomb acknowledged. He turned to the other two, "Let's go."  
  
Griffin looked at him, "These barns are going to go, too, Johnny. What about the horses?"  
  
Holcomb shook his head, "Our first priority is the people. We'll have to play the rest by ear." He rounded the corner and saw the bodies, "These must the guys Bryce radioed about. C'mon, we need to check the barn."  
  
"There's another body over in the corner, just inside the door," Schroeder called.   
  
Holcomb waved an acknowledgment, "Check it out. Griffin and I will go through the rest of the barn. It's not that big."  
  
Schroeder approached cautiously, nudging the body with his foot. The man was huddled on his side with his back to the aisle like he had tried to find a hiding place in the shadows. The trooper reached down to check for a pulse. His surprise at feeling warm skin was nothing compared to the shock when a hand latched onto his wrist, yanking him down to the ground. His shout of alarm died in his throat as a knife slid under his kevlar vest and in between his ribs.  
  
Aaron dragged the trooper's body further into the shadows. He only had a few minutes. His pants were dark enough to pass, he just had to tuck them into his boots. As quickly as he could, he pulled off the vest, shirt and holster. Jamming the helmet on his head, he shrugged into the shirt, not bothering to button it. He could do that later. Fastening the vest, he buckled on the holster as he cautiously checked down the aisle. The other two troopers had just reached the end and would be making their way back up. Grabbing the rifle, he slid out of the barn entrance, ignoring the shout behind him.  
  
Holcomb turned and looked over at Griffin. The other man signaled All Clear and they both turned around to return to the front of the barn. He looked up at the entrance in time to see Schroeder head out the door. Puzzled, he yelled, 'Hey Andy!' but Schroeder kept going.   
  
Griffin glanced over at Holcomb and shrugged, "Maybe he heard something outside."  
  
Holcomb scowled and keyed in his mike, "Andy? What the hell are you doing? Wait for back-up!" He gestured to Griffin and started to jog back up the aisle. He didn't hear anything from Schroeder but as they approached the entrance, the sound of automatic weapon fire came from the house. They made it to the doors in record time and stopped, peering cautiously out. Holcomb swore softly to himself. Where the hell had Schroeder gone?   
  
He heard Donnelly next, "Holcomb! Take your men and close in on the house from the east! Hurry!"  
  
Holcomb looked over at Griffin, "Come on, we need to get to the house. We'll find Andy later." And then I'll pin his ears back and kick his ass all over this damn estate, he added softly to himself.  
  
********  
  
Tink hit the floor as at least half a dozen rounds smashed into the porch supports. Answering fire came from Bryce on the porch roof. He looked up to see Commander Rabb crouched in the kitchen doorway, gesturing for him to get in the house. Tink grimaced, crawling was not something he could manage easily.  
  
Harm stared at Bell in frustration, why wasn't he moving? He ducked a little lower as more rounds came through the porch. At least these people hadn't figured out to aim low. The initial burst of gunfire had taken them all by surprise, sending everyone to the floor. He heard Mac ordering Ruth and Elsa June into the pantry with instructions to stay low and keep the door closed. Harm focused on Bell again, "Corporal! Get in here!"  
  
"Sir... " Bell began and then Harm realized what the problem was. He resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead. He looked over his shoulder to see where Mac was. Maybe between the two of them, they could get the Corporal inside. They needed to do something quickly, Bryce was in an exposed position up there. His eyes widened in alarm as he saw Mac push open the door to the hallway. Goddammit! What the hell was she doing? With a fiercely muttered oath, he lunged at the startled Bell and grabbed a handful of collar. Bracing his feet, he heaved while snarling 'MOVE!'. Tink moved and the two half-fell into the kitchen. Scrambling to his feet, Harm headed for the door and then hit the deck as a burst of gunfire sounded in the hall. Hearing return fire from Mac's pistol made him weak with relief. He reached the door and cautiously pulled it open, "Mac?"  
  
"I missed him, dammit! He's back in the family room." Mac was lying prone in the hallway, up against a wall.  
  
"Are you okay?" Harm moved further into the hall. "Why the hell didn't you wait for me?"  
  
Mac finally looked at him over her shoulder, her expression stricken, "I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't... " The sound of a single gunshot and then the screaming made the blood drain from her face. "Oh god... , " she whispered.   
  
A few seconds later, the door to the family was yanked open and a man and woman pushed into the hallway with Carol and Mo being used as shields. The man immediately looked down the hall and started shooting as he backed towards the front door.  
  
Unable to return fire, Harm and Mac tried to make themselves as small as possible as bullets dug into the drywall and splintered the floor around them. It was over quickly as the terrorists disappeared out the door. Harm struggled to his feet. Intellectually, he knew the shooting had stopped but the rest of him apparently didn't want to take the chance. He looked over to see Mac making the same struggle, "Are you okay?"  
  
She nodded, "You?" Receiving an affirming nod, she headed down the hallway. There was the sound of breaking glass just before they reached the family room door. Unsure of what they would find, they stopped just outside the door. Harm indicated he would go high and that she should go low. Mac nodded silently and watched as he counted to three. They spun into the room and froze.  
  
Harley and Gus were on their knees on either side of Gheorghe. She was pulling an afghan over him while Gus had his hands pressed against the King's chest. Stump was busily untying Marius. They all turned to look at the JAG officers. Smith was the first to break the silence, "Untie me, goddammit!"  
  
Harm moved over to him, pulling out a small pocketknife. As soon as he had one hand free, Don grabbed Harm's wrist, "Give me the knife, I'll handle things here. Lucian Valter was the inside man and he's here. He just went out the window. Go."  
  
Harley looked up at Mac who standing and staring at Gheorghe, seemingly at a loss. Eyes snapping, she said in a voice of barely suppressed fury, "Get my daughter and granddaughter back, Colonel."  
  
Windswept Farm  
Outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky  
1720 Local  
  
Nash pushed out of the front door, spinning around and dragging Carol with him. He heard Karen come out behind him. "Keep an eye on the door," he ordered. "I'm pretty sure I got those two in the hallway but there could be more." He looked out beyond the porch to see black-clad figures closing in on the house. Pushing Carol in front of him, he moved to the edge of the porch. "That's far enough! All of you back off or I kill everyone in this house!" He felt the Queen stiffen as she saw the thick black smoke billowing up from the equipment shed. Shifting his grip and he gave Carol a quick, sharp jab in the side. As she bit back on a groan, he said quietly, "Just a reminder, your Majesty, to behave or things will get a lot worse." Releasing his grip on her collar, he dug into his pocket and came out with a small control. Holding it up in the air, he yelled, "The whole house is wired to explode! You try anything and I'll blow it up!"  
  
Swearing quietly, Donnelly got on his radio and ordered his men to pull back. There was no way he was going to let these people leave with hostages but they'd have to bide their time and wait for an opportunity. He knew Bryce was on the second floor of the house but until the terrorists left the porch, he wouldn't have a clear shot. The Sergeant had no idea where the JAG officers were and, frankly, didn't care. Bryce said they were in the house. Considering the amount of gunfire going on, he figured they were either hiding or dead. Hearing the sound of boots on gravel, he glanced behind to see one of his men approaching. Movement on the porch recaptured his attention and he muttered into his comm unit, "Get ready."  
  
Nash watched the police pull back with satisfaction. It was going to work, they were going to get away. Scanning the area, he called over his shoulder to Karen, "Okay, let's go!" He moved to the first step and then stopped. Something odd was going on out there.  
  
*******  
  
Harm and Mac moved cautiously up the entryhall and stopped near the front door. Crouching low, they peered out the decorative glass panels that were on either side of the door. Harm pulled back and gestured towards the dining room on the other side. Mac nodded. He let her start and quietly followed her in. Once inside, she turned and knelt, waiting for him. Harm took a second to try and gauge her condition. Gheorghe's shooting had really rocked her. It was ironic; Mac was constantly after him not to feel responsible for things beyond his control and now here she was doing the same thing. That damned psychic whatever-it-was had kicked her feelings of guilt right into the stratosphere. It wouldn't matter about the obstacles that had been overcome, only that she hadn't arrived in time. At the moment, he felt he could have cheerfully strangled Harley Montgomery. Her edict to rescue Carol and Mo would be taken as a chance at redemption. It scared the hell out of him that his Marine would have no qualms sacrificing herself to free the others.  
  
"Harm?" Mac's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. He looked over at her and then gestured to the side windows. Despite his concerns, it would take both of them to rescue Carol and Mo. He told himself to suck it up, there was a big difference between 'willingly sacrifice' and 'foolishly sacrifice'. Mac was hardly a fool.  
  
"We'll go out through the window and see if we can sneak up on them. Keep your eyes open, Lucian Valter is around here somewhere, too," he said quietly. Mac nodded and they moved over to the windows. Harm handed his rifle to her and then carefully began raising the window. Once it was open far enough, Mac handed back his weapon and cautiously stuck her head out. He saw her stiffen.  
  
"What? What's wrong?"  
  
Mac pulled back, swearing softly under her breath. She looked at Harm, "The barns. They've set them on fire. The horses... "  
  
Harm's jaw clenched. Those sons of bitches! After everything the family had been through already, now they'd have to face the death of their horses to fire. God only knew what it would do to the kids. He put a hand on Mac's arm, "First, Carol and Mo. Then we'll do what we can with the horses." They both knew it was unlikely that the fire department would get to Windswept on time.  
  
Mac took a deep breath, she needed to focus. She checked outside once more and then glanced back at Harm, "All clear." Carefully, she eased through and then leaned up against the house. Harm followed a few seconds later. They made their way to the corner of the house and stopped in time to hear the man holding Carol yell that the house was wired to explode.  
  
Harm glanced back at Mac, "He's bluffing."  
  
She nodded grimly, "Yeah, but Donnelly doesn't know that." Her point was proven a few seconds later, when the police began to retreat from the house. Harm took the opportunity to peer around the corner while Mac kept a lookout. Shooting wasn't an option at the moment, the chances of hitting Carol or Mo were too great. They'd have to get down and dirty with hand-to-hand. He measured the distance with his eye. The woman with Mo was just close enough but the man was almost out of reach. He'd have a better chance with his long stride than Mac would.   
  
Harm pulled back from the corner and looked down at her, "You go after Mo and I'll get Carol."   
  
Mac started to nod and then put a hand on his arm, her attention focused out towards the troopers. "Harm, what the hell is going on out there?"  
  
*******  
  
Donnelly froze as the muzzle of the M16A pressed against the back of his head. What the hell? An unfamiliar voice said softly, "Don't move." A hand reached around and pulled his pistol out of its holster. Then he felt the hand unfasten the tabs on his kevlar vest. "Lose the vest - slowly." Carefully, he shrugged out of it, letting the vest drop to the ground at his feet. While he was doing so, he managed to get a brief glimpse of the man behind him. An unknown face looked out from the uniform of one of his troopers. "Eyes front!" the voice snapped.   
  
Donnelly looked forward again, his mind whirling. How had this guy gotten to one of his people? And so quickly? They hadn't been at the main complex for that long a time. Besides, his team worked in squads or pairs, always covering each other's back. Bryce was the only one without back-up, having gone with the JAG officers, but he had contacted Donnelly not five minutes ago. He felt the muzzle shift to his back and the tug at his belt as his handcuffs were pulled free. "Put your hands behind you and lace your fingers." He complied and then winced as the cuffs smacked into his wrists while the man tried to get them on one-handed. A sharp jab of the barrel convinced him not to try and take advantage. He looked for the rest of his team.  
  
The two closest to him were beginning to divide their attention between the hostages and himself, obviously wondering what was going on. His assailant had been careful to position himself so it would be hard to see the gun. From a distance, at least until he'd taken off the vest, it probably looked like he was receiving a report from the man. Too late, things were beginning to appear awry. His men would be confused and cautious while figuring things out.   
  
Aaron couldn't help grinning. He had pulled it off and taken the cops' leader hostage. 'Don't get cocky' he admonished himself. He still had to get off the property in one piece. He looked up to the house and saw Nash standing near the steps with Carol Dzurick in front of him. He could just see Karen a little further back with the daughter. What had to be Valter's rental car was parked not far from the house and obviously, Nash meant to use it to get away. Well, that would work for him too. Grabbing Donnelly by the arm, he started towards the car.  
  
Nash frowned as the two cops started moving closer. It looked like one had taken the other prisoner but that didn't make any sense. It must be some kind of trick. He raised his clenched hand higher, "Don't come any closer! I'll blow this whole house to hell!"  
  
Aaron stopped and looked up, "Nash! It's me! C'mon, let's get out of here." He looked over Donnelly's shoulder at the rest of the cops, "You guys can back off or I'll blow your Sergeant's spine right out the front of his chest!" He watched with satisfaction as the troopers pulled back even further. He grinned at Donnelly, "Looks like they want to keep you in one piece, Sergeant." Donnelly clenched his jaw and said nothing. He knew his men would never let these people waltz out of here with hostages. Bryce was his ace in the hole. Once these sleazeballs cleared the porch, he'd have a clear shot at them from above.  
  
Nash stared out at the two men incredulously. Aaron? He started to smile, finally, things were going their way. Once they got out of sight of the house, they could dump the bodies and set out cross-country. He knew that no matter what the police promised up here, they'd never let him leave the property with hostages. So, while the cops were waiting for them to appear at the entrance, they would be disappearing into the Kentucky landscape. He shoved the control back in his pocket and took a firm grip on the back of Carol's shirt. Keeping his eyes on the retreating cops, he started forward and called over his shoulder to Karen, "Let's get out of here." When she didn't answer, he started to look back. He stopped in surprise and then Harm's 6' 4" frame crashed into him.  
  
Karen froze when a pistol muzzle pressed against the back of her head and a hand grabbed the barrel of her AK-47 lifting it skyward. Shocked, she watched a tall man barrel past her on his way to Nash. Any warning she might have thought of giving died when the pistol jabbed into her head a little harder. Her surprise grew when a woman's voice told her to release the Princess in a tone that was hard and uncompromising.  
  
Mo spun out of Karen's grasp and turned back. "Colonel Mac!" Tears were still trickling down her face, "They killed Daddy!"  
  
Mac shook her head, "It's bad but your Dad was still hanging on a few minutes ago. Get back inside and let him see you're safe." She gestured with her head, "Go through the dining room window."  
  
Relief, then worry chased across Mo's face as she glanced towards the front steps, "But Mom... "  
  
"Will not be happy to see you standing here. Get inside." Mac's tone made it into an order and then her voice softened, "Go to your Dad."  
  
Mo nodded wordlessly and fled.   
  
Karen listened to the exchange silently, her mind racing. She was not about to give up without a fight but was willing to let them think they had her cowed. So this was Colonel MacKenzie... her eyes narrowed as she recalled what the Cartwright kid had said. Despite appearances, the woman had to be hurting somewhere. Hell, the Dzurick woman had broken ribs from her fall. Karen listened as Mac finally ordered the Princess inside and chose that moment to make her break. Letting go of the stock of her rifle, she ducked low and turned. Setting her shoulder into Mac's midsection, she drove them both backwards until they crashed into the house. The AK-47 clattered to the floor as Mac lost her grip on the muzzle. Karen smiled grimly at the groan that accompanied the sound of air being forcibly expelled from the Colonel's lungs.   
  
She turned still more and grabbed the wrist of the gun hand, hammering at Mac's ribs with the other. Her head snapped and she staggered back a step when the Colonel's right hand slammed into her jaw. Spots danced in front of her eyes and desperately she threw herself at Mac again, crashing them into the house once more. She heard the Colonel groan again with satisfaction and then suddenly realized that she was having no trouble controlling the gun hand. Giving it a vicious twist, she was rewarded with a sharp gasp and the sound of the pistol hitting porch. Turning quickly, she slammed a forearm into Mac's left shoulder and watched the Colonel's face turn white with pain. Her eyes narrowed, so this was the weak spot. She pounded there again and Mac's knees started to buckle. Pulling her fist back for another shot, Karen's knees also buckled when the Colonel's fist slammed into the side of her head. Mac wasn't giving up without a fight either.  
  
Karen latched onto the front of Mac's shirt and threw herself sideways, dragging the Colonel to floor on her left side. They landed with a thump and, taking a chance, Karen let go of the left wrist, noting with satisfaction that it remained motionless. Swiftly, her right hand went to her pant leg just above her boot and came away with a small but deadly knife. All of them carried extra weapons secreted about their persons. Nash had a blade in a forearm scabbard as well as an ankle holster. As she went for the knife, her left hand grabbed Mac around the throat. Her hand was too small to do the job quickly but when she put her weight into it, that would make up the difference. As she leaned in, she brought up the knife, shifting the grip for a downward strike. With only one hand to defend herself, the Colonel would have to choose between being strangled or stabbed.  
  
She chose the knife hand, catching Karen's wrist in a surprisingly strong grip and stopping the downward motion of the blade. Karen shifted to bring more weight to bear on her left and brought up her right knee to bang into Mac's left shoulder. It was awkward and not as hard as she'd like but it had the desired effect. The Colonel gave a strangled gasp and the knife dropped an inch closer. Leaning in even more, Karen pulled her leg back for another, harder strike. She could feel Mac's arm shaking with the effort to hold her away and smiled through gritted teeth, "Say goodbye, Colonel."  
  
That was her last coherent thought as the world exploded in stars and Karen collapsed unconscious across Mac. Mo stood above her, holding the AK-47 by the barrel like a club. She'd swung it like a baseball bat, connecting with the back of Karen's head. Mo stared at the prone body of the woman and then looked at Mac. "Did I kill her?" she asked in a near whisper.  
  
Red-faced and wheezing, Mac shook her head while pushing vainly at the dead weight draped across her. With only one good hand, she couldn't get any leverage. Her left arm was numb, which she supposed was an improvement because her left shoulder felt like someone had shoved a red-hot poker through it. "Get her off me," she croaked at Mo. The Princess hurriedly lain the weapon aside and grabbed an arm. She hauled Karen off and then helped pull the Colonel into a sitting position, leaning her against the wall. There was a thin line of blood at the base of Mac's neck where the knife had caught her after being dropped from Karen's nerveless fingers.  
  
Mac looked at the nylon restraint that still bound Mo's wrists together and gestured, "Get me the knife." Mo retrieved it and a few moments later was rubbing her now-freed wrists. They both froze at the sound of a pistol shot from the base of the steps. Mac reacted first. "Get inside!" she ordered harshly, scrambling forward on her hand and knees. Even though the fight with Karen had seemed like an eternity, in reality it had only been a couple of minutes. She grabbed her pistol and crawled towards the steps. It made more sense to come in low; besides, she didn't think she could stand right now if she tried. That old familiar fear clutched at her. Dear God, don't let anything happen to Harm.   
  
*******  
  
As soon as Harm saw Mac pull the muzzle of the AK-47 upward, he sprinted past the women and launched himself at Nash just as the man turned to look to Karen. He slammed into the terrorist and drove him up against the porch support with his shoulder. He heard Carol's sharp cry as, freed from Nash's grip, she lost her balance and tumbled down the steps. A moment later, Nash brought both fists down across the back of his neck with surprising force. Harm suddenly found himself on his knees and the defensive. He felt Nash's hand wrap around the back of his head and realized somewhat dazedly as the terrorist pivoted, that the man was intent on driving his head into the porch column. He barely got his hands up in time and then twisted suddenly, driving a fist into Nash's midsection. It wasn't as hard as he would have liked, but it doubled Nash over and bought him a few seconds to re-group and regain his feet. He saw the kick coming to his side and covered, taking the blow on his arm. The terrorist's martial arts training became apparent when the second foot came out of nowhere and slammed into his chest.  
  
Harm staggered backwards and Nash closed on him, intent on pressing his advantage. He let loose with a flurry of punches. Most of them were blocked but enough got through to keep the Commander on the defensive. Harm was now bleeding from a small cut under his eye. Suddenly, Nash lashed out with a foot, sweeping Harm's legs out from under him. He didn't count on the Commander's long reach and his eyes widened in surprise when Harm's hand fastened itself to his shirt and yanked him down too. He was too close to the edge and went head first down the stairs. Harm hadn't relinquished his grip and Nash's fall dragged him down the steps as well. They landed hard at the base on their sides. The jolt to Harm's shoulder made him loosen his grip and Nash twisted free. Harm scrambled halfway up to fend off the next attack only to throw himself sideways against the stairs as one of Nash's hands made a whipping motion towards him.  
  
A sharp pain blossomed in his side and he looked down in amazement at the hilt of a small throwing knife. Looking back at Nash, Harm saw the man pulling up a trouser leg to reveal an ankle holster. With no time to deal with knife, he dove at Nash and caught the hand just as the pistol cleared the holster. His momentum carried them both backwards. They hit the ground and Harm found himself unable to ignore the pain any longer. The landing had driven the blade deeper and caused it to twist. He stayed curled on his side, taking short, gasping breaths. Even though his vision was beginning to gray around the edges, he forced himself to watch as Nash rolled to his knees and raised the pistol. There was a sharp crack and Harm's eyes widened in surprise as the man pitched forward on his face. He looked past the body and saw Carol lowering the .45 Nash had lost when Harm first tackled him. Then she faded from view as he finally gave in to the darkness.   
  
*******  
  
Aaron watched in disbelief as the fight erupted between Nash and the tall man. Where the hell had he come from? He raised his rifle to his shoulder and then lowered it, unable to get a clear shot. He scanned the porch but couldn't see Karen either. Anxiously, he watched the fight continue and then smiled in grim satisfaction when he saw Nash fling the knife. The man was deadly as hell with that little blade, he seldom missed. Aaron's mouth dropped open when he saw the Dzurick woman start to raise the pistol. Up until this point, she had remained huddled against the stair post. He threw his rifle to his shoulder again and then let out an 'oof' when Donnelly threw himself at the young man, taking them both to the ground.  
  
Swearing, Aaron tried to get up only to find Donnelly's legs entangled with his own. Frantic that the other cops would take advantage and move in, he pulled a foot back and delivered a vicious kick to the Sergeant's stomach. As the man doubled over, gasping, Aaron abandoned the rifle, pulling out the pistol instead. He grabbed Donnelly by the hair and yanked his head back, shoving the pistol in his face. "Get up!" he ordered harshly, trying to look everywhere at once. Scrambling to his feet, he hauled the Sergeant up by main force. Holding on to Donnelly, he spun around in a tight circle, screaming, "Back off!"  
  
The troopers, who had been moving in, stopped in their tracks. Aaron chanced a look back at the house as he dragged Donnelly towards the car. Anger flashed through him when he realized that Carol Dzurick was the only one still upright. Well, that was one thing he could correct. He pulled Donnelly around and aimed at the Queen. A single gunshot rang out and Aaron dropped to the ground screaming as he clutched at what was left of his knee. Donnelly staggered forward and spun towards the corner of the house where a middle-aged man slowly raised his hands. He had a finger through the trigger guard, letting the pistol dangle. "FBI," he called, "Special Agent Smith." Donnelly sagged with relief as his men converged on the scene a moment later.  
  
*******  
  
Mac made it to the porch railing and braced herself against it as she cautiously eased forward. Her heart lurched at the sight of Harm's motionless body. Almost as an afterthought, her mind registered the rest of the scene. There was the body of the other man with the spreading red stain across his back and Carol leaning against a stairpost with a pistol held loosely in her hands. She barely heard the second gunshot as she half slid, half fell down the steps to get to Harm. He was on his side with his hands wrapped around the hilt of a knife. She stared at the blood slowly oozing between his fingers and forced her hand up to his neck. The feel of his pulse brought a relief so sharp it almost hurt. She lifted her eyes to find Carol watching her. The Queen licked dry lips and said hoarsely, "My kids?"  
  
Mac attempted a smile, "Safe." She didn't think she could manage more than one word at a time right now. There was a buzzing in her head that was growing annoyingly loud. She shifted her hand to Harm's shirt and grabbed a handful. She had the most bizarre sensation that if she didn't anchor herself, she would float away. Vaguely, she thought she heard another voice but it was too deep to be Harm's so she ignored it. What she needed to do was rest for a few minutes. She couldn't remember being this exhausted. There was still a lot to be done but she felt so sluggish. Definitely, rest was in order... 


	19. Conclusion

Conclusion  
  
Lexington General  
Lexington, Kentucky  
2010 Local  
  
Mac slowly opened her eyes and then blinked a few times trying to clear her vision. The room was semi-dark. There was indirect lighting around the walls near the ceiling, providing just enough light without being harsh. Someone really knew their lighting, Mac thought sleepily. She let her eyes drift across the room, trying to determine exactly where 'here' was. There was something that needed attending to, something urgent, otherwise her subconscious wouldn't have kicked her awake. What the hell was it? She shook her head trying to clear the cobwebs and gave a soft moan, squeezing her eyes shut, that had been a mistake.  
  
"Colonel?"  
  
The deep, rumbling voice was definitely familiar. She was sure she could put a name to the foghorn, if she could just figure out where it was coming from. An immense shape loomed up by the side of the bed blocking the light. Mac tried to bring everything into focus but it was a losing battle. "Colonel?" The foghorn sounded wistful. Her last coherent thought was that foghorns weren't supposed to do that.   
  
Tink looked down at Colonel MacKenzie and then glanced over at Maggie, "She's out again."  
  
Maggie stood up and moved beside Tink, "Well, the doctor did say the best thing for her would be sleep." She wasn't quite sure how she felt about the Marine Colonel. She had had only a few encounters with MacKenzie in her guise as royalty at Windswept. The Colonel had been unfailingly polite and incredibly intimidating. Of course, Maggie was honest enough to admit that there was also a little jealousy involved. Tom spoke about MacKenzie with practically a sense of awe, as well as a sort of proprietary interest. It hadn't helped that the woman was so damn attractive. ... Maggie gave herself a mental shake - she was being stupid. She put a hand on Tink's arm, "She's going to be fine. Do you want to check on the others?"  
  
Tink thought about it and then nodded. The Colonel was probably going to be out for hours. That would actually be for the best. Both the King and Commander Rabb were still in surgery. Rabb's injury was less severe, his operation was probably just about over - barring complications. Gheorghe was another story. He had been critical enough that they had airlifted him from Windswept. He would be in surgery for hours, providing he survived. Tink moved to the door and held it open for Maggie. Together, they walked down the corridor. There were Feds and local cops everywhere. For security reasons, they had taken over a wing of the hospital. Bell shook his head, with the number of casualties at Windswept, they had needed a wing.  
  
He saw Pick in his robe, talking with Don and veered towards the two men. The Commander had been right that Tyler would be more than ready to escape. His doctor didn't concur and Pick was stuck for the duration. The two men smiled as Tink and Maggie walked up. "I was just going to join you two," Pick said, "How's the Colonel?"  
  
"Still out of it. Have you heard anything about the others?"  
  
Tyler nodded, "They just moved the Commander to Recovery. The surgeon said he repaired the damage and that Commander Rabb would make a full recovery. They'll watch him for a couple of hours and then move him to a room. Gheorghe is still in surgery, no word on how he's doing." He paused for a moment and then said, "I called Admiral Chegwidden, too. He'll be here tomorrow."  
  
Tink raised an eyebrow, "How'd he take the news?" He looked down at Maggie, "The Admiral is the Colonel and Commander's CO... and a retired SEAL. He can be pretty impressive when he's ticked."  
  
Pick snorted and rolled his eyes, "He's pretty impressive when he's not ticked. I can't say he was happy but I think, most of all, he was relieved that they hadn't managed to kill themselves." He grinned at Maggie and then looked back at Tink, "I thought I heard him mutter something about 'trouble-magnets' as he hung up."  
  
Tink chuckled while Don and Maggie exchanged looks. "You mean this type of thing is normal for them? I thought they were lawyers," Don inquired mildly. The expression on Maggie's face said she was wondering the same thing.  
  
Tyler smiled, looking at Maggie. It tickled him to no end to that she had set her sights on his friend. The jarhead had met his match. He jerked a thumb at Bell, "Tinker hasn't told you about how we met the Colonel and Commander?"  
  
When Maggie shook her head, he grinned more broadly and waved his good arm expansively, "I think this calls for some coffee and comfortable chairs. It's a long story."  
  
Lexington General  
Lexington, Kentucky  
2330 Local  
  
Mac drifted up through layers of consciousness. With an effort, she dragged herself into wakefulness and then laid there for a moment, taking stock. She pried one eye open and saw the IV. A hospital... well, that made sense. Her body felt heavy and unresponsive... so they were pumping in drugs of some sort - that would have to stop. The pain in her shoulder was down to a dull roar and on further inspection, she discovered that they had immobilized her left arm as well. With an effort, she pulled her right hand up to the side of her face.  
  
"Colonel MacKenzie?"  
  
Mac turned her head and squinted at the unfamiliar woman standing by her bedside. "Who... ?" she didn't get much further, her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.  
  
"Just a second, ma'am," the figure disappeared for a little bit and then returned with a glass of water and a straw.   
  
Mac sipped gratefully at the cool liquid, "Thank you... "  
  
"Maggie," the woman supplied with a small smile.   
  
"Maggie." Mac repeated and let her eyes drift shut for a moment. She needed to get off whatever it was they were giving into her. She couldn't think...   
  
Maggie watched the Colonel's eyes close and turned to put the water back on the nightstand. Tom had gone to see if there was any word on Gheorghe. She'd let him know that the Colonel had been awake again for a little bit. She turned back to the bed in time to see Mac's eyes fly open. "Harm!"   
  
Maggie stood staring in surprise as Mac struggled to get herself upright. Then she leapt forward with her hands out. If what Tyler had said about the two JAG officers was true, then the Colonel had no intention at stopping there. She heard the door open behind her and said, somewhat breathlessly, "Tom, help. She's about to track down the Commander!" Bell wasted no time moving to the other side of the bed, gently forcing the Colonel back against the pillows.  
  
"Ma'am! Ma'am, it's okay! I just came from Commander Rabb's room. He's asleep, he's going to be fine." Bell watched the tension flow out of her, leaving her breathing heavily, slumped against the pillows.  
  
"He's okay?"  
  
Tink nodded, "The surgery went off without a hitch and they just moved him out of Recovery and into a room. He shouldn't wake up until morning." While he was talking, Bell fumbled around with the bed control and starting raising the head of the bed up. He had hated having to talk to people while flat on his back and he suspected the Colonel felt the same. He kept puttering, giving her a moment to compose herself. Now that he'd met Maggie, he had an inkling of how she felt about Rabb. He glanced up in time to see the almost visible persona of Marine officer drop over her.  
  
Mac looked at him steadily, "Tell me what's happened, Mr. Bell."  
  
"Yes ma'am," Tink said calmly. He took a breath and plunged in, "The King is still in surgery, they're estimating it will probably be 8 to 10 hours total. They're keeping Mrs. Dzurick overnight and the kids and the Montgomerys are sacked out in her room with her. Liz Parker is expected to make a full recovery, they'll let her out of bed for a little while in the next day or two. Marius Zali has a mild concussion. He planted himself in Liz's room and they can't get him out. The state troopers had one man killed during the rescue. Jackson Montgomery stayed at Windswept to keep an eye on things." He paused for a moment, "Of the bad guys, nine dead and eight captured, three of whom were wounded."   
  
"Lucian Valter?"  
  
"In custody, ma'am."  
  
"I saw the barns on fire." It was an oblique way of asking how many of the Montgomerys' horses had died. It wasn't just a livelihood for the family, they cared about their horses.  
  
"Yes ma'am. The small barn, equipment shed and part of the main barn were destroyed." Bell refrained from smiling, this would be a pleasant surprise, "... All the horses are safe."   
  
Mac stared at him, "They're safe? ... but how?"  
  
"It was T and the rest of the gang, ma'am," Maggie chimed in. "They were still on Windswept when they saw the smoke. They turned around and headed back to the barns."  
  
Tink continued with a grin, "While everything was going on in front at the house, T and the others were taking horses out the back."  
  
"I'll be damned," Mac couldn't believe that they had pulled it off without anyone realizing it. She smiled back at Tink and Maggie, "If they were mine, I think I'd promote them." Bell nodded in agreement. Mac took a deep breath, that damn medication - or whatever it was - was dragging her down again. She wasn't ready yet. Letting her head drop back into the pillows, she struggled to remain focused. "Lieutenant Tyler?"  
  
"He's fine, ma'am. They'll discharge him tomorrow. I think he's asleep right now." Tink and Maggie exchanged a quick glance. It was obvious that the Colonel was fading fast.  
  
"And you?"  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
Mac gave a slight smile, "How are you, Corporal Bell? This fiasco was not part of your recovery process."  
  
"He ought to be in bed," Maggie folded her arms and fixed Tink with a glare.  
  
Tink stared at Maggie open-mouthed and then closed it with a snap when Mac said wryly, "I believe I'd consider that an order, Mr. Bell. Go to bed." She sank deeper into the pillows, it was becoming impossible to keep her eyes open. First thing in the morning, she'd have a word or two with the doctors.  
  
Maggie and Tink watched the Colonel's eyes close and then Maggie looked over at Bell, "You heard her. Go."  
  
"But I ... ," Tink lowered his voice to a whisper when Maggie shushed him, pointing at the Colonel, "... don't need to be in bed. I'm fine."  
  
Maggie advanced on him, "No, you're not. There's another bed in Tyler's room - go use it." She softened her voice, "There's nothing else to do right now but wait. You might as well get some rest."  
  
Tink suppressed a sigh, his ass was dragging, and then grumbled for form's sake, "What about you? Do you need a ride home?" He let her turn him around and push him out the door.  
  
She shook her head, "And miss all this? I'll stay here. I'm sure I can find a bed to crash in. Let's go." She looped an arm through his and they headed down the corridor.  
  
Lexington General  
Lexington, Kentucky  
0815 Local  
  
Harm slowly opened his eyes and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling... another hospital. There was a dull ache in his side and he could feel the bandages around his midsection. It was daylight in the room. How long had he'd been here? Mac's time sense would come in handy right about now. His eyes opened a little wider as that thought sank in. Where was Mac? Was she all right?  
  
"Harm?"   
  
He managed to get his head turned, amazed at how much effort it took. There was Mac, sitting by his bedside. Somewhere along the line, she had appropriated hospital scrubs. He smiled at the sight of her. "Hey," it came out in a raspy croak.  
  
"Hold that thought, mister." He watched her get up, pour water into a glass and add a straw before turning towards him again.   
  
Gratefully he sipped at the water and then realized she'd done everything one-handed. The left sleeve of the scrub top was empty. "Mac? Your arm?"  
  
"Not a big deal, Harm," Mac said, sitting back down again. "I didn't re-break the collarbone but I did manage to bruise the hell out of my shoulder. For form's sake, they're calling it a sprain. They taped it up and my arm along with it. It's just for a couple of days and then I'm in a sling for a week or two. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Hazy. What happened? How long have I been out?" He vaguely remembered the man he had jumped pulling a gun... and Carol... she'd had a gun, too.  
  
Mac smiled slightly, "The short version is that the good guys won. The bad guys are dead or in custody. You've been out of it for 14 hours and 37 minutes - including surgery." She stopped there, her smile fading.  
  
"Awww, Mac," he concentrated and moved his hand towards her. It felt like it weighed forty pounds. He smiled as she covered his hand with her own. "Mac," he repeated, "It'll be okay."  
  
She stared at him, her eyes dark, "Will it? It took them 12 hours to put Gheorghe back together again. They still don't know if he'll survive the next 24 hours. Carol shot and killed a man yesterday, one of the state troopers was killed, a good deal of Windswept burned down and you were nearly stabbed to death."  
  
"None of which is your fault," Harm said firmly. He wasn't about to let this eat away at her.  
  
She gripped his hand a little tighter, "My head knows that, but the rest of me... " there was a pause and then she continued in a softer tone, "I didn't get there in time, Harm. If Carol hadn't shot that guy, you wouldn't be here right now. I wasn't there."   
  
She ducked her head but not before Harm saw fatigue and pain chase across her features. Dammit, she probably wasn't supposed to be out of bed yet. Well, this was one little bundle of guilt he would force her to relinquish. He lightened his tone, "So where were you? Taking a break to file your nails? Sipping tea with the Princess?" Inwardly, he braced himself, knowing nothing short of a life or death struggle would have detained her.  
  
Mac managed a wry half-chuckle, "Tea would have been more pleasant. The woman and I had a disagreement about remaining in custody."  
  
"You convinced her in the end?" Harm found it a little more difficult to keep his voice light.  
  
Mac shook her head, looking down at their hands, "Mo did with the stock of an AK-47. Woman never knew what hit her."  
  
Dear God. "Remind me to buy Mo a car when I get out of here," he breathed weakly. He waited until she glanced up and then caught and held her gaze, "Listen to me, Marine. Everything worked out. Carol was there and I'm going to be fine. You can't blame yourself for not being in ten places at once." He grinned suddenly, "Unless, of course, you've got a superhero costume under those scrubs that I don't know about."  
  
Mac gave a short bark of laughter, letting go of his hand to take a swipe at her eyes. She gave him a smile, "When we get back to DC, you'll just have to find out, won't you?"  
  
"And, God willing, that will be sooner, rather than later." The sound of Admiral Chegwidden's voice made them both jump. "As you were," he ordered as Mac started to climb to her feet. He moved to the foot of the bed and looked over at her, "There's an irate nurse trying to find you, Colonel." He glanced at Harm, "Apparently, people are busily sending her everywhere but here." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Has she done something to merit this conspiracy? Because it seems that everyone else on this floor knows you're in this room." What he didn't mention was that a surprising number of people tried the same thing with him. Obviously, they thought either he didn't know or wouldn't approve of his two senior officers' involvement. Meredith was going to enjoy the story of all the wanna-be Cupids.  
  
Mac was looking defensive, "I took out the IV. The doctor kept insisting that I stay on the pain meds through today and into tomorrow. I can't do that and I won't... sir."  
  
"Didn't you tell him?" Harm ventured. He understood about the meds but he could have wished that she had rested more.  
  
She shook her head in disgust, "I tried. He was in God-mode and I wasn't qualified to make that decision." Her voice deepened, " 'I'm sure you're a fine Marine, Ms. MacKenzie, but I'm the doctor and I know what's best.' Pompous jackass."  
  
Harm started to chuckle, "So you're on the lam? I've been harboring a fugitive?"  
  
Mac arched an eyebrow at him, "I'm not hiding, I just re-located my CP to a more defensible position." She looked over at the Admiral, ignoring Harm's snort, "Sir, has anyone briefed you on the last couple of days?"  
  
AJ shook his head, "I haven't been here that long." He looked over at Harm, "If the Commander's up to it, I think I'll have everyone assemble in here. It will save time." Chegwidden waved a hand as Mac started to rise, "Stay put, Colonel. Lt. Tyler's hovering outside, I'll let him gather all the pertinent people." In a short enough time that AJ suspected Tyler wasn't the only one hovering, the room was crowded with personnel. The only ones not present, understandably, were the Dzuricks. He would talk to them later. Sweeping his gaze around the room, he settled on Harm and Mac, "Start with your arrival at Windswept... "  
  
Lexington General  
Lexington, Kentucky  
1047 Local  
  
AJ strode down the corridor towards Carol Dzurick's room. He'd just left Mac asleep in her room and had had a few pointed words with her doctor. No one would be sticking her with IVs while she slept. The briefing had taken several hours and had taken its toll on both his officers. It had been a remarkable story and he wasn't the only one to hear the entire sequence for the first time. He was profoundly glad it was over. So many things could have gone wrong and hadn't because individuals had stepped up and persevered against the odds. Now if they could just get Gheorghe to pull through...   
  
He nodded to the policeman on duty and rapped on the door. Hearing 'enter', he opened the door and stepped inside. The room seemed fairly crowded. From Harm and Mac's descriptions, he was pretty sure he could identify everyone there correctly, with the exception of the twins. The dark-haired woman sitting on the bed had to be Carol Dzurick and the young girl leaning against her would be Elena. He didn't see Nicolas or Mrs. Montgomery. Focusing on Carol, he nodded his head, "Your Majesty, I'm Admiral AJ Chegwidden, the Navy Judge Advocate General. I know this is a difficult time but do you have a few minutes to talk?"  
  
Lexington General  
Lexington, Kentucky  
1403 Local  
  
Mac slowly opened her eyes and then groaned softly when she realized how long she'd been sleeping. The pain meds had finally worn off completely. Her shoulder was throbbing like a son of a bitch, but at least her head was clear. She laid there contemplating the far wall while the rest of her body woke up.   
  
"Mac?"  
  
Mac's head swiveled to the left in surprise. Carol Dzurick sat comfortably in a chair and looked back at her, "Are you all-the-way awake yet?"  
  
Mac nodded somewhat numbly. She didn't think she was quite ready to face the Queen. She had failed in her promise to keep the family safe. It was actually rather ironic. Both she and Harm owed their lives to the Dzuricks. "Your Majesty... "  
  
"Carol," Carol interrupted, looking at Mac a little more closely. Talking to AJ Chegwidden had been rather illuminating. He'd come to get their contributions to the story and answer any questions that they might have had. It was the first time that she'd heard the complete stories from her daughters and Nicky. Worry over Geordie had kept them all pretty much in the present.   
  
"Carol," Mac repeated dutifully, "How's Gheorghe?" Finding Carol in her room had to mean that the King had taken a turn, one way or the other. She didn't think the Queen would be so calm if the news were bad... unless, of course, the woman was just numb. Her hand tightened its grip on the light blanket as she waited for Carol's reply.  
  
The Queen gave a tired smile, "He's still with us. Every hour improves his chances."  
  
"Wouldn't you rather be with him? I mean, I appreciate you're coming to see me but... " Mac trailed off as Carol waved a hand at her.  
  
"We're taking shifts. The hospital won't let all of us in at one time and the children need to see him too." She tilted her head to one side, "I needed to talk to you."  
  
"Yes ma'am... Carol," she amended, seeing the raised eyebrow. She took a deep breath, "I have some things I need to say as well."  
  
Carol grinned, "Me first. I outrank you." She sobered a little, "First, I wanted to apologize for dragging you into this mess and then I wanted to thank you for all you've done."  
  
Mac looked at her in surprise, "Thank me? For what? Your daughters wound up rescuing me. I was too late to keep them from shooting your husband and if you hadn't been there, Harm would have died."  
  
The Queen snorted in disbelief, "I don't know if you could call what Cat did, a rescue. She damn near killed you. And Mo wouldn't have been able to 'rescue' you if you hadn't gotten her away from that woman in the first place." Her expression hardened, "I would have killed that bastard even if he hadn't been about to shoot Harm. He shot my husband, in front of me and my children, in cold blood. If you're thinking you need to apologize for that, forget it. God knows what would have happened if you and the Commander hadn't been here at all." Carol paused and studied Mac's face, "You don't see it, do you?"  
  
"See what?" Mac stared at her in confusion.  
  
"The effect you have on the people around you," Carol looked somewhat exasperated. "My kids know that their father is a good king and a fine leader but it's been an abstract. Now they've watched you put leadership skills to use in difficult and trying circumstances. You inspire them. Good grief, Colonel, they'd follow you straight into Hell... no, strike that; they'd go into Hell for you - if it meant you'd be there when they got back. And it's because they know it's what you'd do for them. Why do you think Corporal Bell showed up on your doorstep?"  
  
"He's Pick's best friend... "   
  
Carol shook her head, "I doubt that he shows up on any of the Lieutenant's other assignments. He came because of you." She gave Mac a wry grin, "You realize that all my kids now want to become Marines? Even Cat, although she knows it's just wishful thinking." Carol sat silently for a little bit, letting the Colonel digest what she'd said and then climbed to her feet, "Come along, my dear, I'll walk with you down to Harm's room. I'd like to talk to him as well."  
  
Three Days Later  
Lexington International Airport  
Lexington, Kentucky  
1210 Local  
  
Harm shook hands with Gus Montgomery and glanced over to where Mac and Carol were talking together. Gus followed his gaze and smiled, "Women, nothing but chatterboxes."  
  
"I heard that, Daddy. What do you call it when it's you and your cronies jabbering away?" Carol and Mac were now facing the men with identical raised eyebrows. Harm stood behind Gus and grinned, catching the slight twitch at the corner of Mac's mouth before she resumed her serious expression. It was good to see her relaxed. The Admiral had returned to Washington two days ago after informing them that they were both on sick leave for the next two weeks. They were under strict orders to avoid trouble of any kind. 'I don't care if it's a kitten up a tree. Call the fire department and then get the hell away.' had been his exact words.   
  
They had said their goodbyes at Windswept this morning. Rebuilding had already begun, with the Montgomerys' neighbors offering to help out with the broodmares and stallions. Tyler and Bell had left for Memphis this morning as well. Maggie O'Toole went with them. Jackson Montgomery had contacted a trainer in the area and secured a job for her. T and the other Windswept employees who had rescued the horses had each received a gratifying bonus, courtesy of Carol's trust fund. She considered the cost worth it when she saw the look on El's face at the news that Henri was safe.  
  
They stopped by the hospital to see Gheorghe on their way to the airport. He was making progress although his recovery would be slow. Hopefully, he would be out in time to see Mo off when she began Plebe Summer at the Academy. Not surprisingly, she had opted for the Marines. Marius Zali had been there, too. He let them know that an anonymous caller had led the Bacovian military to the capture of a camp of Chenchen rebels in the mountains near their western border. Lucian Valter, who was going to be in prison for a very long time, had implicated Victor and Katrina in the attempted kidnapping of the Bacovian heir. Marius had no doubts that the Grand Duke and Duchess would also be in prison before too long.  
  
Gus looked indignant, "A free exchange of ideas, young lady." He hmphed at Carol's amused snort and turned to Mac. "You'd better get going, Colonel, before that one's impertinent attitude rubs off on you," he jerked a thumb in his daughter's direction, "I don't think your Admiral would approve."  
  
"Probably not," Mac agreed with a smile.  
  
He stepped forward and carefully hugged her and then glanced over at Harm, "You two are welcome to visit anytime, you know."  
  
"Thanks Gus, if we ever find ourselves in Lexington, we'll be sure to stop by," Harm smiled and then paused, listening to the loudspeakers. He looked down at Mac, "That's us, we'd better get going."   
  
Exchanging hugs once more, the two made their way to the boarding gate. Fifteen minutes later, they were stretched out in first class. Mac smiled at Harm, "Very nice, Mr. Rabb. Is this how you usually travel when you're off to visit your parents?"  
  
Harm snorted as he investigated the magazines and then grinned, "No, this is how I travel when my parents find out you're coming to meet them. Frank upgraded us." When she didn't reply, he glanced over and raised his eyebrows, "You're not worried, are you? My parents like you already."  
  
Mac leaned back and ran her hand through her hair, a nervous gesture, "How can that be? We've never met." She looked over at him a little sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I just don't have much experience in 'meeting the parents'. Do they realize we're both a little worse for wear?"  
  
He answered her last question first, "They know all about it. My mother's in full Mom-mode. We'll be lucky if they let us walk on our own." Harm reached across to grab her right hand and managed to look a little sheepish himself, "Mom and Frank know more about you than you'd think. I've... umm... been talking about you for years." He chuckled, "The only one who might be in trouble is me. My mother can't believe how long it took me to get to off the dime."  
  
Mac grinned as she gave him a quick kiss, "Then we'll just have to make up for lost time, won't we?"  
  
----------  
FINIS 


End file.
